A Page of ID'ic

Confessions K/U, M [PG]

2021-09-19T17:56:00.008-05:00

Confessions

Image: Courtesy of my wanderings through the internet

Summary: When you need the only person who can understand.

Disclaimer: The characters belong to Paramount, their actions are mine.

Author’s notes: A new story in my Realizations series. Set between Lofty Passions and Sometimes I Need More. References events from Healing Touch and my yet to be written story of the end of the five year mission and Kirk and Uhura’s time shortly thereafter.

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“I’m coming, I’m coming…. .” McCoy grumbled softly, walking to the front door of his stately old home. The whole point of being retired was you could do what you wanted to when you wanted to. The chime was loud—spoiling his afternoon nap on the back veranda. He was not expecting any visitors and wasn’t too keen to greet the mystery caller.

“Well, I’ll be damn. Hello Nyota—or should I say Lieutenant Commander,” his scowl quickly morphing into a grin. McCoy stepped back to eagerly allow entrance of the woman who would always be welcome in his world.

“Good afternoon, Doctor”—she began with a broad, and somewhat relieved smile—“I wasn’t sure I’d catch you home.”

It was not like Nyota to visit unannounced or stay in uniform when she had the option; it sent dormant, battle-hardened nerves on red alert. “Call me Len, Commander, if this is a social call,” casually noting Nyota’s uniform. “Where else would I be on this fine spring day?”

“Oh that’s just it, Len—on such a beautiful day you could be anywhere out enjoying the weather.” Uhura stepped into the coolness of McCoy’s home, the tension easing from her shoulders by just being in proximity of someone she thought of as family.

“Guess I’ve already gotten the ‘Jaded Earther Syndrome’ again—taking the sun and temperature for granted again just like any other ‘sodder’. Come on back and let’s sit in the parlor. I have some nice mint ice tea in the chiller just begging to be sipped.” McCoy realized her answer lacked the the reason for her visit but decided he would peel that onion later, right now his upbringing required the offering of refreshments.

“I’ll be right back. Find a seat.” Nyota followed the older man down the hall and into a side room with comfortable furniture.

“Thank you, Len.” She smiled but didn’t immediately sit, instead she wandered the room, looking at McCoy’s antiques and decorations. Most seemed to be family heirlooms—traditional McCoy—but not necessarily personal to Leonard himself.

She stopped at the mantle, fixated by the hologram taken at their final reception on the Enterprise before making home port. Ship life had been chaotic then--crew transferring out—determined to stay in space. Anticipation of the grand reception coming their way causing all sorts of chatter and speculation about next assignments and promotions. But Nyota, even through all of that, had sensed an underlying current of tension between McCoy, Spock and Kirk. Looking closely at their images in the holo one could see something—an uneasiness in their posture, smiles that seemed a bit forced.

Little did she know when the image of the senior officers was captured by a fellow merry-maker, that its hints of disquiet foretold a deafening explosion to follow.

“Do you miss it?” McCoy’s perceptive voice questioned as he returned bearing a tray of tea and molasses cookies, making Uhura consider how long he had stood at the doorway watching.

“It? Len? Don’t you mean them?” Coming over to join him on the settee, Nyota did her own bit of challenging as she accepted a cold glass and a small plate of cookies.

“It, them. Isn’t it all the same? Our time on the ship together?” McCoy knew he felt differently but sometimes you have to let go and accept that life moves on no matter how much you wish it to stay in stasis.

“I enjoyed our mission tremendously. It was a rush to run a whole department of a starship—but it’s over now. Time for us to move on to bigger and better if you believe the Starfleet credo. But my shipmates? Yes, I miss them—you—sometimes very much.” There was a wistfulness in her tone that told McCoy she wasn’t any fonder of that credo than he was.

“Some more than others too, possibly?”

“I came for a visit, Len—not a psyche eval. You guys were—are—like family. I treasure you all.”

“Okay, darlin’, but if you’ll accept my humble opinion anyway, it’s not like you to just pop in unannounced. Does this day mean more to you than any other? Something about it make you want to seek out a kindred spirit, maybe?”

“If you’re alluding to the fact that today is Admiral Kirk’s wedding day, then you’re stretching it, Doctor.” If he was going to act like a physician she was going to call him one.

“Oh, don’t go getting tetchy with me, Nyota. I’m not judging or reading way more into it than it seems. Jim’s getting married. I know you two were close for a bit—even after the mission. You’re here and not at the wedding—there a reason for that?”

Taking a sip of the cold tea, Nyota wished for something stronger. “I *was* invited, but I declined –my last mission was not expected to end this early. I mean, technically I’m *still* on the mission—our ship just got in this morning.”

“So naturally, you beamed down to visit an old friend—regs be damned—or something like that?” Why did it seem so deranged when he said it so matter-of-factly?

“You didn’t go either. There a reason for that? Surely you can’t still be mad at him.”

“I was *never* mad at Jim. I was angry at Nogura for manipulating him—using his sense of duty to the service and to him personally to get Jim to agree to that damn promotion. I’m still angry that Jim can’t see that being planet-bound will be the death of him. At least Nogura’s gilded him a pretty little cage…”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Lori Ciani? Jim’s,”-- looking at the mantle clock to acknowledge the wedding was probably over by now,--“wife—is also one of Nogura’s hand-picked wonder kids. You don’t think it just a bit too neat that they’re now getting married?”

“Neat? I mean, if you’re around someone you’re attracted to day in and day out—wouldn’t romance be a logical step?”

“Hmmm, you’d know that better than me now, wouldn’t you darlin’—but I knew logic would come into it sooner or later. And where is ‘good ol’ logic, huh? He flew the coop too, didn’t he? Again, due to Nogura’s scheming. Not allowed to join Kirk’s staff because off some unholy alliance relationship that Nogura thinks will keep Jim aloof from the rest of the Admiralty.

“No, good ol’ Spock doesn’t just reject his promotion as Enterprise’s captain—the prize that Nogura thinks would woo him away from Jim’s side—he rejects *all* of Humanity—leaves the service, leaves his family, leaves emotions and Jim behind.

“We made a piss poor mess out of the whole thing—me included. And now Jim is tied to a desk and saddled with a wife too perfect for the picture. That’s my guilty conscience screaming, Nyota. What’s yours got to say?”

“I don’t feel guilty about anything, Len.”

“So, it’s more about regret, then?”

“What *did* you put in this iced tea?”

“Nothing too dangerous—just something to take the edge off.”

“I think it’s peeled a little too many layers off of me. I came by to see an old friend, not the ship’s therapist.”

“Sorry, but the friend is bored. You’ll just have to look over the doctor in him.”

“Easier said than done, Len. You know way too much about me for me to trust this will stop now.”

“Trust me, Nyota,--that’s why you really came to see me—you trust me—trust that what you say here today will go no further. You trust that I’m the only one who could and does understand.”

Uhura raised her chin just a bit and straightened her shoulders—a tell she picked up from Kirk when he was getting ready to bluff his way through something—usually a gaggle of Klingons….

“I’m fine, Len. Really.”

“You think so, huh? Well, I don’t. You broke regs to come see me and you told on yourself to boot. Sounds like someone who needs a friendly ear if I ever heard one.”

‘Fine”. She got up to pace, subconsciously staring at the hologram in her back and forth journey.

“Admiral Kirk—Jim,” she took a deep breath after correcting herself, if she was going to confess she needed to be brutally honest,--“called me several months ago and told me he was getting married.”

“And?” prompted McCoy, nudging her over the first hurdle.

“I was shocked? Happy for him? A little overwhelmed…”

“How about hurt?”

“Oh yes, how could I have forgotten that one? And I was hurt…. But did I have any right to feel that way? Were we together? I took a six month tour of the border monitoring stations just to waste time until the refit of the Enterprise got underway. I left him and he was okay with that. We aren’t a couple—don’t plan to be—but I don’t know what we are. There are times when I need him and he needs me. Am I being selfish? Worrying about the next time my world crumbles?”

“And would Jim being married preclude him being there for you?”

“Why tempt Fate, Doctor? I’ve compromised his sense of honor before and I never want to do that again.”

“Nyota, I don’t think Jim ever felt that he betrayed anything or anyone by being there for you.”

“It’s strange—I can’t explain how it feels sometimes. Like I’m hollow and all I can feel is his echo—it overruns me, bouncing against my insides—trying to find me—comforting and exciting me at the same time. It’s been that way since Bengali. It never goes away. It just ebbs and flows like a tide. I always know it’s there—that he’s there. And he feels the same.

“So why you may ask, with all of that, can’t we be a couple? Because outside of each other we desire different things. We know that. We accept it. So why am I having such a hard time accepting his marriage? He seems to have found a way to move on.”

“Jim has denied himself for so long—he encouraged you to take this mission didn’t he?”

“Yes.”

“He wanted you to get away. To stay in space to be free to live without the restrictions that bind him. It stands to reason he would seek a life with someone who doesn’t feel limited by being on desk duty—someone he doesn’t feel at fault for their limitations. Jim’s strongest complaint about being a captain was the loneliness. As an admiral on Earth he is free to share himself with someone. But I don’t think he could choose someone he felt belonged to the stars—and Nyota—he’s always felt that way about you.”

“And I know it’s for the best that I’m out of the picture—but there’s something shifting inside of me that is having a hard time accepting it.

“I *know* it’s safer to love him from afar. Do you know the old Pratchett quote, ‘he was beautiful like a forest fire is beautiful. Better not get too close?

“That exactly describes my attraction to Jim. I’m drawn but fearful of the flames. And when I left him six months ago, Len—there was hardly more than scorched earth.

“You had left him—Spock had gone to Gol without so much as a goodbye—his ship was being taken away from him and he was jumble of hurt, shock, anger and regret. When I left he had made some sort I peace with his future—but he was far from healed. Admiral Ciani has no idea who she’s really marrying. Six months can’t cure all of that.”

“So what can you do about that? What can you do to help Jim—or Lori for that matter—and not get hurt in the fallout? If you know you’re not meant to be with each other, are you willing to risk what chance for happiness he’s reaching for?”

“You know, when I’m sitting in detention for going AWOL, I’m going to think long and hard about those questions because right now I don’t have any answers.”

“No, Darlin’, I’d imagine not. So, speaking of regs and flat out disregard thereof—you suppose a comm from Starfleet Medical requesting your immediate presence here would do you any good with your commander?”

“Ah, well, since there’s nothing in the log to support that request, I’m sure Commander Bricker will be less than thrilled with any interference.”

“You planning on serving with him again? Got any other marks against your record during the mission?”

“No, in fact, I have a commendation or two.”

“Then what are you worried about, Ny? Skipping ship a few hours early won’t hold candle against that. Now, excuse me while I call in a favor.” And after that’s done, why don’t we go out on the town? This wedding might suck but who says our version of the reception has to?”

“And, I guess that’s why I came, Len. You always know how to show a lady a good time.”

“That’s me, Darlin’---that’s truly me….”

~Finis

Forgiveness K/U, S/U [PG]

2020-07-26T16:35:00.003-05:00

Image: Courtesy of my wanderings through the internet

Summary: A farewell of sorts and portents of new beginnings.
Disclaimer: The characters belong to Paramount, their actions are mine.

Author’s notes: A new story in my Tokens series. Set between Tokens and Of Love and Sunsets. References events from My Faith in You and Healing Touch.

Dictionary:

T'hy'la: Vulcan. Friend-lover- lifelong companion, blood brother/sister; soulmate; soul-brother/ sister

Yon-shal tersu: Vulcan. Literally ‘fireside partner’ as in someone to keep you warm at night. A person with whom one has a deeply intimate relationship with outside of a bond/marriage.

Moyo Zolotse: Russian. My sun, meant as the equivalent to darling or dear.

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Forgiveness

Chekhov was the first to notice the darker outline in the shadows near Uhura’s front door and then only because the black-clad figure chose that moment to step into the beam of her porch light.

“Mr. Spock vhat are you doing here?” Pavel asked with relief, now moving aside and letting Uhura see who had been standing on her porch as they returned from her birthday dinner.

“Mr. Spock, I had no idea you were in town-we’ve just come back from dinner-had we known you were here--” Ny stammered like a midshipman under the stern scrutiny of Spock’s silent gaze.

“Commander, I apologize for my late arrival, but I must speak with you tonight,” Spock announced in a tone that brooked no refusal and clearly excluded Chekhov from the conversation.

“Well then, let’s go inside shall we?” Ny tried to lighten the mood and smooth down the short hairs standing at the nape of her neck.

“I must speak with you alone,” Spock replied in the same cold tone, but looked at Chekhov with clear dismissal.

“Mr. Spock, there’s no reason to be rude,” Ny started her own challenge. Over the years she had tolerated a lot of strange behavior from the Vulcan standing before her, but rudeness was not one of them.

“Nyota, it’s okay.” Pavel leaned in and kissed Uhura softly on the cheek. “I need to be going anyway. Happy birthday, Moyo Zolotse,” he whispered in her ear as he gave the stoic Vulcan a challenging look of his own. A look that conveyed he was leaving because he did not want to upset the ending of a beautiful evening more so than Spock intimidating him.

“Thank you for dinner, Pasha, I had a wonderful time.” Nyota hugged her old friend enthusiastically, kissing him back, but on the lips. It was *her* birthday and she would do as she pleased.

With a smile of vindication Chekhov nodded to Spock, “Goodnight Ambassador” then turned and walked away. Spock merely watched his one-time protégé disappear around the corner of the next brownstone before following Uhura through her front door.

“May I take your cloak?” Uhura asked as she stripped off her own wrap. Spock might be uber-Vulcan tonight but she had no intention of allowing his coldness to affect her good manners.

“Yes, thank you,” he answered with the first hint of warmth in his voice. Taking his cloak along with her wrap, Nyota hung them both on the coat tree, studying him as he moved further into the room. He was clad in unrelenting black and moved with the sensual grace she always admired.

“May I make you some tea? If you were out there waiting for very long I’m sure you’ve gotten a chill.” Ny offered in hope of making him comfortable and possibly drawing the old Spock she knew and loved out of the hard shell of aloofness before her now.

“That would be acceptable,” he answered with a slight bow of his head.

“Good, I’d like some too. Why don’t you light the fire while I make the tea.” She motioned toward the fireplace as she moved toward the kitchen.

By the time she came from the kitchen with a tray bearing a pot of tea, cups and a small platter of fruit and bread, the fire was burning nicely. Spock was standing before it, palms outstretched, his gaze seemingly lost in the flutter of the flames before sensing her returned presence in the room. Uhura made a show of pouring the tea as he moved to sit next to her on the sofa.

“I think you’ll like this blend. A friend brings it to me on occasion from Rigel Four.” She made small talk, patiently waiting for Spock to announce why he needed to speak to her so urgently.

“It is agreeable,” he remarked after a cautious sip, an edge of surprise in his voice. Ny just smiled and watched as the warmth of the tea slowly eased some of the rigidity from Spock’s body--not a spring thaw by any means but a step closer to the easy Vulcan she was used to.

After finishing his tea, Spock sat the cup down with a sense of dreaded purpose and Ny’s hackles once again rose from the expectant silence between them.

“Commander—Nyota—“, Spock began again, fumbling over the familiarity of her given name. “I came to see you tonight in order to fulfill a promise and deliver a last birthday gift to you from Admiral Kirk—from Jim.” He spoke the name with gentle sadness as he produced an envelope from his tunic pocket and held it out to her.

Nyota felt her heart leap into her throat as his words took on new meaning. She placed a hand over her chest to hold the wayward organ inside. Now, Spock’s reticence made sense…now, what had never been discussed between the three of them ruptured the carefully crafted fallacy that Spock had been ignorant to the human’s private relationship. She stared at the parchment envelope in her hands, not remembering taking it from him but caressing it just the same. A maroon wax seal bearing the Kirk family crest dared her to peel it away and seek the words inside. As always these past thirty years, he called to her and she came. From the quiet of the bridge or the unknown of death, it did not seem to matter.

Her fingers toying with the seal, she looked up into Spock’s eyes and drew strength to open the envelope. Gone was the stoic reserve, replaced by a sympathetic gaze that obviously knew that whatever the letter said, it could only bring some form of pain. Did he know this from reading something similar? Her hand trembled as she took a deep breath and opened the seal. Ny unfolded the sheet of inner parchment and her eyes immediately grew too bleary to read as she recognized Jim’s handwritten scrawl—that it was legible meant he had taken great care to make it so. She tried to blink back the tears but gave up and just let them flow as she read the first line.

My Darling Penda,

If you're reading this letter then it is because I am dead and Spock has brought this confession to you as a last remembrance from me on your birthday. I know this because I've always recognized you would both long outlive me. Don't be sad; we all know I cheated death so many times that my marker would have to be called in sooner rather than later. I am content with that; it is a fair trade to have lived the life I lived.

But now, in death, I need to confess many things I never had the courage to tell you in life. Funny, how the idea of eternity frees one to speak truths they've seldom chosen to face. How the soul runs to unburden itself from wrongs never righted and opportunities thought lost. Please forgive me for not telling you these things in person; I tried to find the words on more than one occasion but I’m afraid this letter is the best I can do.

I need to be forgiven for taking you for granted, for always expecting you to be at my side, regardless of hazard, regardless of what else might be going on in your life. I never asked if it was an inconvenience; I never asked what you might be giving up.

I need to be forgiven for selfishly keeping you in my world, but never making you my world. For hiding behind the rules and regs that supposedly kept us apart when we both knew I could have forced the universe to accept us.

I need to be forgiven for depending on you to rekindle my spirit and then leaving you to sweep up the ashes. For using your devotion to push back the despair that tried to conquer me so many times.

I need to be forgiven for having loved you too much yet not enough. For loving you too much to let you go, for never pushing you to take on the challenges I knew you capable of because they would take you away from me.

I need to be forgiven for not loving you enough to claim you as mine because I could never give you the one thing you ever wanted--all of me.

I need to be forgiven for never telling you how much I loved you. For never telling you how you lived in the very center of my heart, keeping others from ever meaning more to me than you did.

But mostly, I need to be forgiven for keeping you from ever seeing the love of another. A love much less selfish and much more worthy than mine could ever be. I know because I benefited from that same love, depended on it and used it just as selfishly as I did yours.

I tell you this in hope that perhaps I can redeem myself in some small way and give you one last present, a love truly worthy of your heart. Look past the reserve that stands before you and see the love shining in his eyes. It's there, waiting patiently for you to see it too.

Please know I always loved you deeply if imperfectly.

Jim

Nyota felt as if she were smothering—all the oxygen was gone—leaving her in a vacuum with Jim’s words. She acted out of instinct, looking up into the tall Vulcan’s eyes and for once seeing beyond the veneer of his reserve and finding tenderness in their brown depths.

The heat of the fire suddenly became too much, shoving the letter into Spock’s hands, Ny bolted out the French doors to the coolness of the night. Leaning on the iron railing she gulped in great lungful’s of air before crumpling as her body wracked itself with grief, anger and fear.

Jim’s words constricted her heart—the blunt truthfulness overwhelming. It was as if he had just died all over again and she still had not gotten a chance to say goodbye. She had never asked to be his world—just a part of it. Ny had always known she would be a shadow in his life and was content with her choice.

Anat’s prophecy from long ago whispered in her head, ‘not meant to be, but meant to be forever’. How true the words had come to be. The fantasy they shared when it was just the two of them too fragile to withstand the realities of their lives and careers.

She was devastated that he had left her and furious that he had found a way to tell her all the things she had already known but needed to hear. All but Spock—and in those thoughts lay fear.

How could she have been so blind? Not to just his attraction—but her own? She always had a soft spot in her heart for Spock but when had it grown to something more? And how had Jim known and she not?

“Nyota, please come back inside before you get chilled.” Spock urged softly as he practically carried her back to the sofa. The letter, now neatly folded, rested on the mantle. One look at Spock confirmed he knew its contents.

“Spock—Spock—I didn’t know—you never let me see how you felt.” Ny shook her head in confusion as her world turned inside out.

“Would it have made any difference between us? Could you have denied him if he sought you out?” Spock asked, his voice roughened by his own measure of grief and uncertainty.

“Jim would never have come between us if we had been a couple—“ Ny stammered in Jim’s defense, yet knowing she had not answered the question.

“He was always between us—he was your choice. Jim was my t’hy’la but not my yon-shal tersu. I could not share you with him just as he could not share you with me.”

“I am not a possession to be bartered for,” Nyota remarked coldly—suddenly realizing she had been the center of a debate she had never been privy to—and not liking it.

“No, you are not, but that did not change the fact that we could not share you and you had made your choice.” Spock again repeated that everything between the three of them was based upon her choice, like it made perfect sense to him.

“I didn’t know a choice I made twenty-five years ago would be permanent. I was hurt and scared and he represented safety and security to me,” Ny challenged back, reliving the terrifying months between her rape and her final rehabilitation in Jim’s arms. It was the only choice she had ever made that could have the repercussions Spock claimed. How he knew she was past caring.

“To a Vulcan such a choice is always permanent.” Spock answered with quiet finality.

“I’m not a Vulcan, Spock.” Ny offered, trying to get past Vulcan logic.

“You are not, but I am. The choice would still be permanent.” The intensity of his stare told Ny he was speaking of tonight just as much as we was speaking of their past.

“Spock, please don’t make me have this conversation right now.” Nyota dropped her face into her hands, trying to blot out the past twenty minutes of her life.

“I am not forcing you to say anything, Nyota. Jim’s letter has exposed quite enough truths for one evening.” He rose and swiftly moved to take up his cloak.

Ny panicked and reached out to stop him. “Spock, I’m sorry, please don’t leave. I just need some time to deal with all of this.”

Spock pushed into Nyota’s personal space, running his fingers lightly over the psi points of her temple. “Nyota, I am not running away. But I need you to be sure of what you want and who you want. I will not compete with the memory of Jim. When you know what you seek I can be found at the Consulate.”

Nyota just nodded, her voice trapped inside by the intensity of Spock’s gaze. He pulled away his hand like it was hardest thing he had ever done and walked out into the night.

~Finis

Recollections--The Art of Conversation Su, U Implied K/U [PG]

2012-10-14T22:11:00.000-05:00

Image: Courtesy of Trekcore and Photo Shop
Disclaimer: The characters belong to paramount, their actions are mine.

Summary: A new series called Recollections, a look at Kirk and Uhura's relationship through the eyes of others. This installment: Sulu.

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"So, why do you do it, Yota?" The question was simple; the true answer anything but. Hikaru Sulu sat alone with Nyota Uhura--friends for decades but some things were still unspoken. Forbidden.

"Do what?" Her challenge was automatic--a deflection she did not expect to need tonight. Sulu normally understood the gentle art of conversation--where questions were circumspect and answers even more careful.

It was the reason such conversations were held only between the two of them. Their usual third--Chekov--was avoided during these questionable bouts of introspection. He was too earnest--too direct--too in awe of the man who originally brought him on as a raw ensign. That he was now a commander, recently XO of another ship, did little to mute the hero worship in his eyes.

"Stay--come back no matter what else you're in the middle of?" This was not delicate--it trashed the sensibilities that existed between them. Many things were known but never spoken, years of ship life having honed their ability to read each other. It was a survival trait developed over years of guarding each other's back on countless away missions. It was a skill so recently put through hell and more. Now Sulu crossed the line--he asked a question whose answer would remove the final veneer between them. At least he had the decency to blush.

"Be careful, Ru--truths beget truths...." Nyota warned in a casual purr, her eyes flicking to the side, broaching the bartender's practiced indifference. Her hand tapped softly on the table, advising him to bring another round. Both parties recognized it as a ploy to buy time, but the question remained awkwardly between them.

It spoke of deeper loyalties--questioned the boundaries of professional versus not. No crew was like the Enterprise's crew--coming back again and again to serve a man - Captain or Admiral - no matter the cost to their own careers. They were used to the blunt questions from outsiders, the quieter innuendos or outright gossip in her specific case. But from each other it was never discussed. Each of them had their own motivations and it was understood by all that it was something shared, yet private. It was subliminal, almost instinctual. You didn't need to talk about breathing--you just breathed.

"It's not pushed back a Captaincy for me, Ru." That stung. It was true that accepting Kirk's request to man the helm during their last training mission most likely cost him the Excelsior. A new ship of the line, its delivery date had been moved up by months, the rush another ill advised effort by Starfleet to meet some arbitrary deadline. Had Sulu been slotted for any other mission he was sure his promotion would have superseded it. But even the Admiralty seemed to falter when an assignment involved Kirk. Naming Stiles captain had caught them all off guard. The private comm after the announcement was just that--private. Kirk's apologies meant a lot but could not fill that void in his heart--the deep abyss he understood all too well when he looked into Kirk's eyes.

Now, in the ugly aftermath of Khan, Klingons and alien probes, Sulu found he was miraculously cleared of all charges but his name was no longer near the top of the promotions list. Kirk had been rewarded by the Council with a ship. At present, a nameless shadow of his great love--a rush to make some grand gesture for saving Earth's human population--but still a ship. Yet Sulu could in no way consider it a fair trade for the loss of a son--he could not imagine losing Demora in the same manner as Kirk lost David. In the grand scheme of things Sulu considered himself a lucky man. He was not alone.

"True, but I have a daughter." Not 'still' only 'have' -- the comment not being directed at Kirk but more toward the woman who sat in front of him. That the relationship which produced the daughter crashed and burned was not the subject. Just the fact he had found someone and stayed with them long enough to want a child spoke volumes. The remark felt unworthy of being spoken aloud but it did not make it less true.

That did more than sting. She lifted her glass and toasted his very jagged point, his response a non sequitur to anyone but them.

"And a very beautiful child she is." Nyota ceded gracefully, choosing to take the hit rather than strike back. She loved children but never chose to have any of her own. The men in her life never inspired that sort of commitment and she would not bring a child into the world without the father being a part of their life. Uhura knew the men she gravitated toward were poor substitutes for someone she could not have. It was not possible and never meant to be but the attraction remained. It was quiet and well-hidden but those who remained from the beginning recognized and accepted its existence without any tangible proof.

For the first time her eyes cut over to a table on the far side of the bar. It was a quick glance, almost casual to anyone else. But Sulu caught the involuntary glance toward the man who could provoke those feelings--love and commitment--in Nyota. The man sat with Admiral Cartwright, friend and recent champion for Kirk and his crew in the Council debate regarding their disposition.

"We all give up things to serve, Ru, some more than others." That barb struck bone. Nyota did not need Sulu to point out what she might have given up to further her career, what she continued to deny by coming when beckoned. Spock had given up his life; Kirk had killed his ship and lost his son. It suddenly made their sacrifices seem trivial.

"I think I'm going to call it a night, okay? Winning a reprieve was worth a toast but perhaps I've had one toast too many." It was as much of an apology as one could give without acknowledging the insult. She rose, now studiously avoiding the hazel eyes that caught her movement. Sulu gently ignored her sudden interest in the table. It was time to be polite again--time to avoid the truth and crawl back into their separate shells of denial. He stood with her, brushing his lips carefully against her cheek. He smiled a forgiving smile--the same one she reflected back to him. Tonight was a near thing--a layer of skin too much maybe but not above healing.

Sulu sat back down to finish his drink, remembering was not high on his list of things to do tonight, but movement from the corner still caught his eye. Broad shoulders squared themselves as the admiral rose from his chair. He smiled at Cartwright, thanking him for whatever influence he swayed in the Council's decision. Their eyes caught as Kirk straightened--his eyes looking hard at Sulu for the briefest of seconds. Sulu tilted his head toward the door--the direction of Nyota's departure. Again, a nearly imperceptible nod was given his way as Kirk excused himself. His stride was sure and quick--only in pursuit if one knew the prize.

~Finis

At the Coming of the Dawn K/U [PG]

2011-02-27T21:30:00.002-06:00

Image: courtesy of Paramount, Trekcore and Photoshop

Disclaimer: The characters are Paramount's, their actions are mine.

Summary: What is the penance for taking what you desire?

~~~

In the ambient honesty of dawn's faint light she glimpsed the smooth edifice of shouldered muscle. The fragile glow cast it pale, but without doubt the full appraisement of morning would find kindred gold. Her eyes bore the light, choosing to accept its part in their condemnation--a fair trade for the singular moment to gape--to fleetingly glory in the unrepentant forelock that made years forgotten. She felt her heart take notice of the languid, delicate lashes provoking more than envy. She chose to ignore the probability they hid eyes that would wake with doubt, a morning brimming with good judgment and no alcohol would sway the verdict against them repeating their offense. For now the lips were softly innocent, only slightly swollen from their passioned abuse hours before. The cut of his temple and jaw silently petitioned her to once again taste their saltiness. A come-hither pulse at the base of his throat invited attention, its blemished hollow an evidence neatly covered.

Would that her own guilt could be so easily hidden--but she was no longer someone who dwelled on 'if only'. These five years had taught her to act--to seek instead of wistfully hoping.

And now it was done. A shore-leave too many some would say. But would *he* say it? In her mathematics, his was the only opinion that mattered. It was circumstantial at best if others saw them leave together. Nothing unusual in that--chivalry was not only bestowed upon visiting alien princesses. But if last night ended on an invitation to stay, who need know? If their mission was down to its bitter dregs, with little time left for chimeric fantasies, who would cast the first stone?

No, she knew her chief prosecutor would come from within. Upon their first light his eyes would greet her in awkward kindness, no rebuke in them for her enticement the night before. He would only find fault in his lack of resistance--the expectations of a saint ground down to a humanness history knew too well.

And so it would be: him quietly castigating himself for being mortal and her able to change nothing. It was not fair, she knew that before ever asking him to stay. It was the price to be paid between them--the sentencing for intimacy realized. But for now he slept and she was content to smile in the quiet and ache in the afterglow.

~finis

And Thanks Were Given K/U [NC-17]

2010-12-04T12:00:00.003-06:00

Image courtesy of my fledgling Photoshop skills.

Disclaimer: Paramount owns Star Trek. I only own my fantasies.

Beta: Flying solo on this one. You've been warned.

Summary: Takes place just as Kirk ends his two year retirement before TWOK. Not a part of my Realizations series just a story written for the THFFF 'A Story Posted before the end of the Holidays Challenge'.

~~~

"Nyota, please tell me you weren't so noble and idealistic that you never made a play for him all those years ago--all those lonely, lonely nights out in deep space... ."

Commander Uhura gave her oldest friend from Starfleet Academy, Kiki Morrow, a look that could peel deutronium. "We've had this conversation before, Kiki, I'm never going to tell you anything--especially when I know it will go straight back to *Admiral* Morrow.

Only her eyes moved, taking in the subject of their conversation: Jim Kirk, or possibly, newly reactivated Admiral James T. Kirk, late of Idaho and rumored soon to be Starfleet Academy's command-track supervising admiral. Waning afternoon glare made both women invisible to the men standing outside on the deck. Intent upon his subject, Kirk stood immobile, dressed in casual civilian attire, the intimate drape of his sweater confirming two years of retirement had not diminished the man talking with Admiral Harry Morrow.

"Nyota, you know I would never tell Harry anything like that. Besides, he is the *last* person to judge someone on that topic." At Uhura's raised brow, Kiki rolled her eyes--"Oh, stop it. I made an honest man of him by our second tour."

"I'm not judging." Nyota threw up her hands in surrender, only now quietly suspecting her invitation to the Morrow's Thanksgiving dinner was more than an attempt to share a holiday with an old friend. It had been years since their last real get together but Kiki's penchant for playing matchmaker reminded Nyota of her reason for the gap.

The politics of the situation became another consideration. Two years ago Kirk resigned rather than accept another promotion--one geared to assure his being named Commander Starfleet when Admiral Nogura finally stepped down. Several months later, word of Nogura's illness became known and the jackals started vying for position. Harry Morrow, one of Kirk's peers and 'friendly' rivals, wanted the job, fighting hard for consideration. A few years older than Kirk, Harry seemed to be Nogura's perennial second choice. Kirk suddenly removing himself from the equation limited Nogura's options and broadened Harry's opportunities.

And now scuttlebutt was that he was working hard to recruit Kirk back to the Academy to oversee the command cadets, a new flag position allowing him the authority to rewrite the curriculum as he saw fit. Morrow might not have the power to give Kirk a ship again; he did not yet have the absolute authority Nogura once wielded, but he was trying to give Kirk something of value: the chance to make a difference in shaping the young minds that would go out into the dark.

Would it be enough? And how did she fit into the equation?--quarry?--test?--reward? It was not lost to Uhura that Kiki was a starship and Starfleet medical psychoanalyst long before she transferred to the diplomatic corps.

"Sometimes it just is what it looks like, Nyota." Kiki's prescience only reinforced Uhura's suspicions but she hardly had an option to leave without hurting her friend and potential patron. "Now let's take this wine outside; I only promised them a drink twenty minutes ago. I hope bringing you out with me will keep the heckling down to a low roar."

"Then you're lucky it's wine and not Saurian brandy," Uhura scolded good-naturedly. Kirk liked wine, but it did not hold a candle against his preference for brandy.

"I'll remember that for after dinner," Kiki quipped and Uhura had faith she would.

At the sound of the door opening both Kirk and Morrow turned to see who was coming out to join them. Morrow smiled, motioning the ladies over; acutely aware the two former colleagues were silently staring at each other. "Kiki, bring Commander Uhura over here. I think these two might have some catching up to do."

Uhura moved after a nudge from Kiki, her eyes still examining Kirk. His hair was darker and curlier than when she saw him last. "Commander," he greeted formally, his posture quietly going on alert.

"Admiral," Nyota answered in kind--not sure how to acknowledge him after two years. Two years without even a goodbye.

"Oh my God, is that any way to greet each other? Jim Kirk, allow me to introduce Nyota Uhura. I believe you two have met." At Kiki's snicker, Uhura realized that the Admiral's wife was not the only one attempting a bit of matchmaking.

Kirk's head tilted at the friendly chastisement but hardly appeared reprimanded. Leaning in, he softly brushed his lips against Nyota's cheek. "Hello Nyota, you look as beautiful as ever."

"Thank you--Jim." The name came hard for her--she had always used his title to keep a certain distance between them. His reputation notwithstanding, Kirk always ignored gender on the bridge and successful officers learned to do the same. "It's so nice to see you again."

"Harry promised me a treat if I came over for Thanksgiving," Kirk announced, cutting his eyes over to the admiral in recognition of the social set up. "I thought he was talking about Kiki's home cooking--"

"Speaking of home cooking," Kiki interrupted none too subtlety, "Harry, I need your help in the kitchen," pushing him toward the doorway.

"Yes, dear," Morrow laughed, allowing his much smaller wife to man-handle him into the house.

"You'd never know she is one of the Federation's best diplomats." Kirk shook his head in grinning disbelief.

Handing him his nearly forgotten wine, Nyota laughed. "I think she's just acting out because she can. A Starfleet admiral and a former member of his crew are hardly likely to start a war just because she invites us to the same party."

"I see your point, but I think she enjoys social arbitration as much as the diplomatic kind." Kirk stared at the door, as if expecting Kiki to reappear.

"And there's that too." Uhura could not deny that aspect of her friend's personality.

"It *is* great to see you again, Nyota." Kirk's eyes softened, morphing from mischievous into something that caused Uhura's stomach to do a little flip.

"I've missed you." Where had that come from? Two years of silence did not earn him such a confession. Caught off guard by her admission, Kirk's eyes widened, allowing Uhura to see they were the same warm hazel color she remembered.

Touched by her words, Kirk stepped in close, forcing Uhura to look up at him as he made his apology. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you goodbye."

"At first I was angry that you just left, but I got over it. Doctor McCoy told me a few things he probably shouldn't have." A chance dinner with McCoy clued her in that Kirk made good his threat from all those years ago--to quit rather than be forced once more into a position he did not want. After the V'ger crisis Nogura allowed Kirk the freedom of a ship again rather than lose him altogether. But two years ago the fleet commander knew he was losing the battle to keep his condition quiet and tried to bring Kirk back into the fold. Kirk balked and the Admiral called his bluff only to find it wasn't a bluff at all. Kirk resigned.

Later, after word of Nogura's chronic illness became common knowledge, it suddenly became clear as to why he had fast-tracked Kirk's career. Nogura, the man who technically served at the discretion of the Federation Council, but in reality guided their agenda more times than not, was looking for a replacement, a will as indomitable as his own. He found one in Kirk but realized much too late that the young man he blazed through the ranks, tempered on risk and adrenaline, would no longer bend to his ambitions.

"No, he probably shouldn't have but I learned long ago Bones couldn't keep a secret--at least not one of mine." At Nyota's raised brow for calling McCoy out, he continued. "Yes, I've always played my own game, but sometimes it costs me. A lot."

"But you're back now?" Uhura asked cautiously, not sure how much he was willing to share.

"I think the spring semester should prove to be very interesting." He smiled archly over the rim of his wine stem. "Care to go back to school?"

Kiki chose that moment to announce it was time to eat, allowing Uhura a moment of grace to process his question as anything other than a request to rejoin his staff. His hand coming to rest on the small of her back as they entered the house did not help matters. How could he just pop back into her life after two years and pick up where he left off? Was he now being as presumptuous as Nogura had been of him?

Two years was a long time to be out of the loop. Detractors branded Kirk a thankless son for leaving just when Nogura needed him. Some were angry, declaring his career advancement wasn't earned but a carrot others were never given. They were not the majority of the Fleet, but a vocal enough minority to cause a stir in Morrow's administration at the news of his possible return. While Nyota had her own reasons to be angry with his leaving, she subscribed to neither critical opinion of her former commander. She suspected Kiki invited her to dinner to discover just this fact.

~~~

Surprisingly, dinner was a mundane but pleasant affair, no politics or work discussion, just an enjoyable meal shared between friends. Kiki announced her love for the holidays, saying it was an opportunity to express herself through food.

"What?" By the look of Jim's overfilled plate, Nyota thought he might be attempting to express his gratitude through eating. "I've been working out."

"Oh, yes, Jim, she noticed." Kiki taunted, doing her own once over of Kirk's physique. Uhura's scathing look did not affect Kiki at all. Jim, for the most part, chose to keep his smirk to a minimum.

"My mom always told me the greatest compliment one could give a cook was an empty plate." Kirk tossed out in his own defense.

"I like how your Mama thinks, Jim." Kiki nodded support. "I was surprised when Harry said he got you to come over today. I thought you'd be back in Iowa."

"Normally I would, but this year Mom decided to visit extended family off planet." A flash of something else--regret? Loneliness maybe--touched his eyes before being pushed away. "Thanks for inviting me."

"You're welcome, Jim. I couldn't let Nyota sit there and stare across at an empty chair, now could I?"

"Admir--Jim, please don't answer that." Nyota interrupted in only partially feigned frustration.

"Whatever is the matter, Nyota? You know how I *love* to entertain." Innocence was actually a becoming, if unbelievable, look for Kiki.

"Nyota, you can't do anything with her--believe me--I've tried," Harry offered in warmhearted commiseration, "Happy Thanksgiving, everyone." He raised his glass in a toast, plainly wasting a chastising glance upon an unrepentant Kiki.

"Happy Thanksgiving!"

~~~

In the end Kiki got her way. Dessert destroyed, food put away, and kitchen cleaned, it was only a matter of time before someone mentioned going home.

"Oh, Jim, be a dear and take Nyota home. You have a flitter and she came by cab."

"I'd be happy to," Kirk answered, graciously giving in to Kiki's antics.

Pointedly ignoring Kiki's victorious grin, Nyota answered drily, "Thank you, Jim, I'll just get my jacket."

"I'm so going to hurt you, Kiki," Uhura softly threatened the woman who followed her into the bedroom.

"What? You can't mean you didn't enjoy having dinner with Jim." Kiki just rolled her eyes at Nyota's rebuke.

"He's my Admir--he's my former CO, Kiki. It's a bit awkward to be fixed up on a blind date with your former commander." Being in his company was one thing - Kiki's blatant efforts to match them up were something else.

"I don't see why--he's hot. You obviously like each other. Oh, don't give me that look again; I've been getting it all night. You can't deny you find him attractive. I read faces for a living for God's sake--I know attraction when I see it."

"That's beside the point. I feel like you set me up as a prize or something." Uhura's internal sensors were blaring their own red alert.

"No, just a friendly face--if not old crew--who?" The question was spoken just a bit too casually to be innocent.

Still couched out of context, Nyota finally heard Kiki's real question. "Maybe we'd be the ones to have the biggest issue. He left. No goodbye. No nothing."

"So, how does he win you back?" The tone was serious, the old friend gone, replaced by the cold stare of an inquisitioner.

"I'm not a trophy." Nyota found her own mettle.

"Really?" Kiki challenged, incredulous that Nyota could not recognize her worth. "You don't think you're something to win? He wants you back--he asked for you. Maybe you aren't a reward, but he does want you back in his professional life. Anything else you make of it is between the two of you."

"Your little party was just a ruse to get us together and see how it went--to see how I would react to his coming back." It was not phrased as a question but Nyota's eyes still searched Kiki's face for an answer.

"Was it? Am I that manipulative?" Kiki's Cheshire smile did little to deny the accusation.

"You better believe it. I know you Kiki Morrow. Harry is going to give Kirk carte blanche at the Academy--both their reputations will ride on how well he is received. You very much want Jim to succeed--he would be a great asset to Harry--but you'd have no compunction against changing his mind if you thought it would destabilize his control of the Admiralty." Nyota found her own voice wound tight with anger.

"I'm glad we understand each other. Now, are you going to stand up for Kirk or stay on the sidelines? I can't see you vocally joining his critics, but keeping quiet is just as effective for someone in your position." Kiki seemed satisfied, as if Nyota's indignation was exactly what she sought.

"Kiki, dear, I'll always have the Admiral's back and you should remember that if you ever decide to switch teams." Banking her own anger Nyota smiled without humor. She might not be in the Admiralty but she knew where plenty of bodies were buried. Her thoughts of Kirk returning were her own--private. She would not allow Kiki to use them against the man she had served for multiple tours.

The diplomat dipped her head in acknowledgement, understanding Uhura's threat was not an idle one. "Then we won't have a problem. Shall we go?"

~~~

Their companionable smiles were back in place as they reentered the living room.

"Thank you both, I had a wonderful time." Uhura smiled sincerely, at least to Harry. While she did not think him totally innocent of Kiki's plan, she doubted he knew the true nature of her intent. One of Harry's weaknesses, and Nogura's biggest issue with considering Morrow as his replacement, was his tendency to only read the surface motivations of another. True, with Kiki at his side, Morrow was more than covered on that front, but it was a very big flaw for someone in such a political arena.

Giving hugs all around, Kiki continued to play the gracious hostess. "Of course you did, dear. All my parties are wonderful because I only invite exceptional people. Now remember, nothing strenuous until everyone's had a chance to digest dinner." Uhura had to give Kiki credit, she was the consummate actress.

"I'm going now." Under the guise of exhausted patience Nyota hugged Morrow goodbye before turning on her heel and walking out the door, leaving Kirk to make his own goodbyes.

Secured in the quietness of the flitter Kirk and Uhura looked at each other, breathing a sigh of relief before bursting out in laughter. "I'm sorry, Nyota." Jim began, trying to restrain himself by focusing on keying in the coordinates to Nyota's house.

"Don't be, Jim, she's *my* friend. I should know better than to think an invitation to her home is purely social."

"I know her too and I fell for it. I should have guessed she'd try to find me a dinner date."

Keeping the conversation on the most obvious subterfuge, Nyota discovered martyrdom was pretty easy to fake. "Yes, that's me, once again pressed into 'safe' escort duty."

Bruised ego in waiting, a look of hurt flashed across Jim's face. "Was it really that bad?"

"Of course not; I always had a great time and was allowed to experience so much more than my rank warranted. It's just--" Nyota caught herself, almost forgetting to whom she was speaking.

"Just what?" Jim prompted, eager to know.

"I just wish it hadn't always been so--so--safe." Realizing she had no way out but with the truth, Uhura said the word blandly, attempting to hide her embarrassment with humor.

"Now she tells me." He rolled his eyes in good-humored exasperation, much more playful than she remembered him to be.

She smiled back, liking the change in him. "Oh, to know then what we know now."

"As I remember it, you informed me early on that your job did not involve 'entertaining' the captain in any way. I always thought your willingness to play escort a great concession." His tone implied he recalled it quite differently.

Uhura was glad he could not see the blush that memory made her feel. Trying to make sure her position was on solid ground she had nearly called him out in her initial interview. "Can you blame me? I was the only female on your command staff--you knew your reputation was--"

"Did you believe it?"

"I was--wary--at first, but I soon recognized you treated me like every other officer. Most of the time I appreciated that, but there was the occasional planetary ball or diplomatic gala where I wished you saw me as a woman." Her smile contained more than a bit of wistfulness.

"Oh believe me, Nyota; I always knew you were a woman," His playfulness transforming into resignation at another cost of command, "But most of the time being captain did not allow for personal choice."

Nyota was rescued from answering that remark by their arrival to her brownstone. Kirk exited the flitter, coming around to escort her to the door.

"Thank you, Jim. Is it safe to invite you in for a nightcap?" Nostalgia made her brave.

Laughing at her challenge his darkening eyes told her much more than his words. "As safe as you want it to be, Nyota."

Feeling a rush as her heart skipped a beat, Uhura looped her arm through his, encouraging him through the door. "I thought I'd already told you my opinion about that."

~~~

At her insistence Kirk sat on the sofa and watched as Uhura quickly hung their coats on the rack before pouring them both a brandy. She passed Jim his drink as she sat comfortably, kicking off her shoes and curling one leg beneath her as she settled next to him.

After touching his glass to hers he sipped the amber liquid, letting it warm him from the inside. Nyota found herself hyperaware of him-watching the unintentional grimace and tensing of his throat as the alcohol burned its way down.

"You never answered me." The statement pulled her eyes back to his, making Nyota focus on the question rather than the body before her.

"What was the question?" She remembered his flip remark about returning to school but needed him to put it out there, to make a real request for her services if he wanted them.

"If I come back to the Academy, I want you to join my staff. I know you're focused on your research but I'd work around that if you'd be willing."

"Willing to what?" She did not miss the 'if' but that would come next.

"Willing to teach the cadets what it really means to run the communications department of a starship. How one minute it's listening to quasar blips and the next it's translating a first contact. How communicating is more than the language of a culture--how not to get everyone killed by making assumptions based upon your own. They learn syntax and translator algorithms. I want you to teach them the practical application of all that and more--the science and the instinct of it all."

More than slightly daunted by his expectations and faith but refusing to show it, Nyota followed up with her second question. "And what do you mean by 'if you come back'? I thought you had accepted Morrow's proposal."

"Let's just say it's still in negotiation but I'm confident I'll be wreaking havoc on Spock by the spring semester." His eyes warmed at the mention of their favorite Vulcan, the one currently commanding the Enterprise as an academy training vessel.

"I'm sorry Jim, I need more detail than that in order to rearrange my life this time." She did not flinch as he turned his singular attention on her, the admiral finally making an appearance. "It sounds exciting but my research is very important to me too. To build the kind of curriculum you're asking of me will require more than two weeks notice. Who am I kidding, it would take me until the fall to get something viable outlined and implemented."

His eyes lost all humor, replaced by the look of someone facing an ugly truth. "Nyota, you realized there was much more going on at the Morrow's than a nice meal and a chance meeting between old friends.

"You were right earlier, I'm *not* safe. Politically, I'm damaged goods to Morrow and he is too new in his position to risk the wrath of the Admiralty. I have many friends there but quite a few enemies too. My rise through the ranks was at some of their expense. He'd be an idiot to bring me back until he's sure it won't cost him. Harry is no idiot.

"Kiki used you as a sounding board. Old staff, strong attachments, someone I left without a backward glance when I found it impossible for me to stay. I know I have the support of Spock and Bones, but you've always been the emotional anchor of the command team. If you welcome me back, the others will too. I don't have the right to ask it of you but I need your help."

"I've been a captain's woman before. Why should your return as an admiral change anything?"

Kirk's forehead wrinkled in mild worry before his head dipped in tentative agreement. "Okay, I'm scared to know everything behind that statement but I take it you're in my court?"

"Jim, you have no idea the flak I've taken over the years for being on your team. While I am still insulted you left without a goodbye--regardless of circumstances--I prefer those issues to remain private between us. The Admiralty can kiss my pla'krus-dvunek. I'll always be in your court."

"I'm sure Spock will be glad to hear your rather creative use of Vulcan anatomy. I know I am." He found himself leaning forward, perhaps subconsciously sitting on edge awaiting her answer.

"I'm in the mood to accept apologies." She leaned in, closing the distance between them, her lips less than a breath away.

"I'm in the mood to offer those and more." His lips just caressed hers; Uhura felt more the idea of them touching than the reality of it. His breath warmed her cheek as he tilted his head to move in closer.

Her glass found the sofa table as she freed herself of unimportant details. She pushed herself up and into his kiss, this time finding no hesitancy as Jim's mouth covered hers. One of his hands cupped her jaw as the other slid under her hair to cradle her neck. Nyota lost herself in the moment, only recognizing the taste and touch of him, moving to discover the body that had distracted her all day.

"Why don't you take the wine upstairs and start a fire in the bedroom fireplace while I slip into something more comfortable?" She grinned against his lips, liking the film noir of her suggestion.

"Comfortable is good." He kissed back, nodding his approval. "Fire--fireplace--got it."

~~~

Kirk turned from lighting the logs in the old-fashioned fireplace as Nyota entered the bedroom wearing nothing but a long silk robe. His eyes looked her up and down, entranced by the curve of her hips and the tautness of her nipples straining against the soft fabric. She walked to him, placing her arms around his neck, pulling him into a kiss.

"That's not safe," he murmured huskily.

"Then I'm doing it right," she whispered back, her hands running down his body, slipping her fingers into the top of his jeans.

Turning Uhura toward the cheval mirror standing vigil in the corner, Kirk stepped behind her, his hands pulling her robe down from the top, exposing her breasts and trapping her arms in the sleeves. The front of the robe gaped, allowing him to see the manicured mass of curls between her legs. She was still partially draped, yet exposed much more erotically than if she were nude. Still holding her arms behind her with his left hand, he pulled her backward against him. Nyota sighed, closing her eyes as she leaned into his hardness.

"Nyota," his warm breath nuzzled her ear, "keep your eyes open. I want you to watch me make love to you in the mirror." His eyes reflected more than firelight.

She opened her eyes, finding herself a voyeur to her own seduction as Jim began to explore her body. His right hand moved across her breasts, caressing and gently kneading, making himself familiar with her skin. He continued roaming, descending his fingers into the curls beyond. Trapped by his gaze, Nyota gasped as he entered her with his index finger, his thumb slowly circling her clit. She was wet with excitement as she both watched and felt him move within her. He spread her legs by wrapping his right leg around hers, stepping outward to give himself better access. Nyota was effectively trapped, made completely vulnerable by their shift in balance. Her voice caught in her throat as Kirk nipped her neck and slipped another finger inside her.

She found it nearly impossible not to roll her eyes back inside her head as he whispered, "Watch, Nyota, watch me as I make love to you." His eyes tracked hers, their intensity holding her just as captive as his hand still encircling her wrists.

A third finger joined the other two before curling themselves inward. Nyota lost any control she might have once possessed. Her body grew rigid and clenched around his fingers before her knees buckled. Jim quickly let her arms go, keeping her upright by sliding his left arm around her waist. He kept her on the crest by pressing deep, continuing to rub her clit with his thumb.

As her spasms relented into only occasional tremors, Jim released Nyota's leg, holding her yet against him. Once able to focus, she was not surprised to find her robe completely open. Still through the mirror, she looked at his face, complimented by the open hunger of his eyes. She smiled, arching her back to capture his head with her upraised arms. "With a look like that I may never feel safe again."

His voice was hoarse as he turned her body into his, lips warning while seeking shelter, "That would be wise."

Still within his kiss, Nyota undid his belt and loosened his jeans, gently easing them down over his hips. Freeing his hardness from restraint, she started to drop down to her knees.

"Oh no," he scolded teasingly, lifting her to her feet and cajoling her toward the bed; "if you think I can take the same treatment you're sadly mistaken."

"What's the old adage? You can dish it out but you can't take it?" Nyota razzed as she elbowed herself toward the head of the bed, challenging him with a flash of her eyes.

"Maybe, but I'll show you what I can take." Jim pulled his sweater over his head, tossing it flagrantly onto the floor. He made short work of the rest of his jeans while she continued to appreciate his form, enjoying the casual flex of muscle his movements invoked.

As he crawled up the bed to cover her, Nyota understood exactly who was being 'taken'. Jim's lips found hers, his tongue feinting past. His hands firmly cupped her breasts before moving down to taste them. The tug of his teeth against her nipples sent a new tremor through Nyota's groin, priming her for the resonance that was to begin. Once again looking into her eyes, Kirk deftly pushed his cock into her wetness, joy-riding in that nanosecond of unity. Instinctively wrapping her legs against him, Nyota held him still, reveling in the same moment, seduced by the depth of all of him.

Jim smiled, understanding and appreciating the strength attempting to hold him in place, but just as easily pulling back and thrusting again. Nyota clenched around him, making him work for the backstroke. He laughed playfully, reaching down to hook one of her legs under his arm. Bracing himself with his other elbow he began a deep, insistent rhythm. When his pace quickened--became less sure--Nyota wiggled her leg free, planting her foot against the bed, matching him thrust for thrust. His fingers found their way between them, touching her once again. She felt herself tighten, the pressure and stretch of him driving her to the peak of another orgasm. He lost it at the same time, collapsing against her, shuddering hard with the force of his own.

~~~

"Nyota, I have to go soon." Warm breath caressed her neck, but the rumble of Jim's voice tickled her ear even more.

"Why, it's hardly morning?" The light from the bedroom window barely outlined his face as Nyota sleepily turned into his body, the warmth of him better than any blanket.

"I wasn't planning on being gone overnight. I have horses that need to be fed and watered." Picking up where he left off last night, he answered between nibbled kisses, making the chores sound erotic.

"Oh, so you really *did* go domestic, didn't you?" Nyota couldn't help but tease, fleeters, especially star-bound fleeters, did not take pets-- most did not even take mates unless they were shippers too. It was too hard to make arrangements--too painful to leave them behind when it was time to go.

"Well, I certainly have all the trappings of someone having tried." The tone was flip but his eyes looked away, the subtle deflection a warning she was nearing tender territory.

Snuggling in closer, Nyota brought his mind back to the present by stroking the hardness she found against her belly. She could not erase the last two years for him. At the moment she did not want to--as a civilian Kirk was a fair indulgence. "As delicious as you looked in that sweater yesterday, I think the uniform suits you best."

The compliment triggered a grin of enormous proportion as he announced, "I think the horses can hold out for just a bit longer," before indulging her once again.

~~~

"I can't believe I've let you talk me into teaching next semester. I mean, it's barely six weeks away!" Coming down from her recent high, the question of the night suddenly took center stage in Uhura's scrambled thoughts.

"You're not one for pillow talk much, are you?" Kirk laughed as he rolled to face Nyota's slightly panicked one.

"Jim--I'm being serious--don't laugh at me. I must be crazy to 've agreed to something so absurd. Six weeks to plan and outline a whole curriculum? No way!" She tried to sound angry but his continuing grin took most of the edge from her voice. "I guess I'm lucky I've got six weeks--you didn't know I would be at the Morrow's yesterday--you hadn't planned to ask me--"

"Sshhh," he softly scolded, tapping her lips into submission. "How can I ask you to do something until I know whether I'm going to be re-instated?"

"It didn't stop you from asking me last night--"

"Harry pretty much guaranteed me yesterday it was a done deal. He just has to work through any last minute bargaining. Your being there yesterday was provident--I couldn't pass up the opportunity. If you said no then it was probably not going to happen anyway." His tolerance for the gamesmanship going on with his future momentarily took Nyota off guard.

"You mean, if I said no, Kiki would make sure you didn't cause her husband any problems." Nyota felt no need to be generous in her opinion.

"Something like that." He smiled cheekily at her sudden protectiveness.

"Since when have I ever been able to tell you no?" She scoffed at the mere idea.

"Why does that sound dirtier than it is?" Dappling kisses along the edge of her jaw only made his question more ridiculous.

Nyota actually giggled before reining herself in, "Where have you been for the last eight hours?"

"Somewhere right about here, I think...." His hand moved sensuously along the inner curve of her thigh.

Capturing his hand with hers, she held it still. "Don't try to distract me, Jim. I'm really worried about this."

"Teaching? You've done it before." He seemed truly confused at her hesitancy.

"A lecture series--not a full program--and even then I had more than six weeks to plan." The difference was crystal clear to her.

"Relax. I may have taken the liberty of asking Spock to prepare a few outlines for your perusal if you agreed." Now understanding her panic, he took mercy.

"Spock? Outlines? Mister Spock doesn't know how to just outline." She froze in disbelief, realizing he was most likely sharing only a small portion of a far greater plan.

"He's thorough that way..."

"Wait--even he can't have done all of that in the short time you've been talking with Morrow--Whose idea was it *really* for you to take over the Command track cadets? Spock's?" Her suspicion only grew deeper at his smugness.

"It's his world--I just live in it." Others fell for his innocent grin; she knew he was at his most devious when it appeared.

"Right...but at the moment he needs your expertise in dealing with Command when they get in the way of his plans." She *knew* better than to underestimate them--two years of down time had made her rusty.

"When their resistance to new ideas is illogical, perhaps; Spock is brilliant, but he's not quite gotten the hang of putting just the right spin on it to get what he wants. Until then, he has me." He made it sound so simple.

"You? Well, I've heard it said you can put enough backspin on a ball to play tennis with yourself..." She laughed, the rest of the story should be entertaining... .

He pulled his brows down in a wounded expression. "That sounds like McCoy. Besides, I'm using my skills for good not evil."

"I take it Mister Spock has been trying to get the powers that be to change the Academy curriculum and they wouldn't listen?"

"Alas, you know the Admiralty so well."

"So he just devises a plan to change the power source--one in his favor."

"You make it sound so clandestine."

"Clandestine is hardly the word I would use. Kiki has no idea she's been out maneuvered before she even started." Nyota wished she could be in audience when the diplomat figured it out for herself.

"Don't think it's been easy. If it were he wouldn't need me to get the changes he wants in play."

"Hardly--Mister Spock will always need you. But I wasn't meaning that--just admiring his subtlety--not a word--not a hint of anything has pointed to him. I bet the hardest part was convincing you to come back." She looked at him hard, waiting to hear his answer. Admitting he made a mistake in leaving was not his style but so far he had surprised her plenty.

"Maybe I was ready to come back." The smile was still in place but the tone was painfully wistful.

Sensing it was time to move on to their situation, Nyota rolled over, holding Kirk down with more than her stare. "So now that I know the game plan and am no longer freaking out over lesson plans already written, where do we go from here? Was last night a onetime thing or does it continue once you're no longer a civilian?" That his current lack of rank most likely played into his decision to spend the night was not lost upon her.

"Again with the pillow talk--" He tried to joke but his smile faltered, mutating into a visage much more intense. "I don't know, Nyota. What do you want? I'm still picking up the pieces after telling someone I was going back to Starfleet. The ending was not pretty. Right now I'm not sure I can give you everything you deserve."

She brought her hand up to gently stroke his cheek, recognizing his confession for what it was--fear of allowing anyone else in. "You forget, Jim, I'm Fleet. I'm not asking for a lifetime--I'm just asking for today."

He smiled, his face lighting up at the sense of understanding she granted him. It was more than he could hope for and definitely more than he deserved. "I can give you that. Want to come help me with the horses?"

~Finis

Healing Touch Chapter 15 and Final K/U [NC-17]

2010-04-17T11:00:00.004-05:00

Image courtesy of the Interweb. Thank you, Interweb!

Disclaimer: Paramount owns Star Trek. I only own my fantasies.

Feedback: Yes please, here or by email.

Beta: Sincere gratitude goes to: Nyotava, Bandicca, Zapp and Trekskitten for such wonderful betaing! Each of them brought fresh insight and used their unique expertise to make this story a reality.

Summary: A sequel to "My Faith in You," addressing Uhura's recovery from a brutal attack and the depths of Kirk's commitment to keep her in his world.

***

Her bag was still on the floor, the contents spilling out in the same disarray as her feelings at the moment. She lay there in the near darkness, listening to his steady breathing, illogically frightened that he might stop at any moment if she should drift off. Her conviction to sleep in her old room, or back on ship, had crumbled once she had kissed him again. How could she resist the last chance to feel his embrace?

Mindful of his injury, and McCoy's stern warning, Uhura had pushed him back against the bed and done all the 'work'. She had not asked permission for anything, just coaxed and commanded him to do her bidding. She had savored every inch of his body, knowing each touch was a farewell. He was restrained but responsive, denying her nothing as she fought the demons of their goodbye, his tenderness shredding her heart, as he loved her as no one ever had.

Now, curled against his side, her head pressed against his chest, Uhura wondered how she could leave her passion for him on Potakai. He scared her with the strength of his convictions about them, and about his duty, both only making her more frantic. To go back to just being his comm officer was going to be extremely difficult.

But did she actually think she could allow herself to feel this deeply for him and still sit idly by as he went down on mission after mission? On this one point Uhura knew the answer--no. It scared her to be so close to someone who would throw himself into the fire. She had worried about him when he was just her captain; now it smacked her hard on a completely different level.

She wanted to run away from it, wanted to go back in time those many months ago and stop herself from kissing him on the observation deck. The fear of losing him during the Tholian mission had caused her to act upon feelings his near-death had brought to the surface. It had caused them to dance around each other and confess to feelings they both knew were better left unexamined. That confession had led him to promise she would always have a place by his side, not as a lover but still a vital person in his life. A promise that had forced him to declare martial law on an alien space station in order to rescue her from the Orions. A promise that had forced him to share himself, his heart and his body, in order to keep his word. A sequence of events that happened from that one moment of weakness, one she could do little to rectify now.

She knew it was what McCoy faced every time Jim beamed down. Perhaps only Spock was 'safe' from him - and she had her doubts there. Anyone who got close to Kirk would have to endure the fear of him not coming back one day. She had always known that in theory, but the actual reality of it chilled her blood. She had to back away and allow some distance between them once again. She could not let him any nearer her heart than he already was.

She had to keep reminding herself of why they weren't meant for each other. He was too intense, always pushing and demanding when sometimes all she wanted was peace. He would expect her to advance far quicker in her career than she was wont to go. He was physical and always craving excitement, while she preferred a night at the opera and a slow dance under the stars. But mostly, she wanted someone who would be totally and unequivocally hers, not someone she would have to share with the ship and at least four hundred other people.

And tonight she had come face to face with that terrible intensity so many alien commanders had met--usually to their own undoing: That one brief moment of staring into eyes so deadly. Whether it was her challenge, or her dismissal, that had finally caused him to snap and lay his hands on her, she didn't know. Even through the brightness of his usual aura, she had always sensed there was something dark and dangerous about him. Now she knew what it was - that he was whatever he needed to be in order to win. An image of her White Knight in black armor flashed in front of her eyes and it unnerved her to know he was so driven. It didn't stop her from loving him, but now she knew why she always preferred the shadows. She knew it was only the fact that he had a strong conscience and true friends in Spock and McCoy that kept him grounded.

He had told her all along that he couldn't be what she wanted. He had been honest when he told her they could have nothing past Potakai except to be in each other's world. He had not lied when he said he loved her, yet she realized he had kept most of his true feeling buried from her. It was that which hurt the most, that he needed to shield himself, allowing only a certain amount of vulnerability. Though now she knew it was the only way he could permit himself to be the comfort that she needed.

She contemplated transferring, but felt is was cowardly to run after he had risked so much for her to be able to stay. She did not know why she felt she needed to linger in his light. Like the real sun, it could do quite a bit of damage to one who foolishly remained in its glare without some form of protection. But it was at his side, on his Bridge, that she felt was her place. Perhaps just as another soul to hold vigil for him as Spock and McCoy did. It did not matter, she just knew it was where she belonged.

***

Dawn found Kirk up and rummaging through his cast-off jacket for the extra hypospray McCoy had left him. His shoulder and back were a vivid purple as the deep bruising rose to the surface. The edges of the dermaplas bandage were tinged with blood, a ghastly reminder of the wicked injury underneath the superficial closure.

Uhura silently rose from the bed and took the hypospray out of his hands, adjusting the dial slightly before pressing it against the base of his neck. She could feel the tension leave his body underneath her hands. He murmured a soft, "thank you," as she touched his forehead and ran her fingers through his soft hair, gently encouraging him to lie back down and allow the pain meds to take effect. She curled up next to him--not yet ready to let him go.

***

The morning brought gray shadows into their room, the lack of color reflected in Uhura's mood as she packed up the last of her things. The mission was at an end and its completion closed so many other chapters going on in her life right now. Even though she knew most of them needed to be stamped with "The End," it still made her sad to know how this one finished. No, "and they lived happily ever after," seemed to be written in the stars for them.

Yet a part of her resisted that analogy. *They* might not live happily ever after, but some tiny part of her shouted out that *she* still could. She could still live the life she had always dreamed of living. That was the voice she strived to listen to, the one who tried to tell her how much she had won--instead of the chorus that was singing a dirge of how much she had lost.

"Sugar, you can't lose what you never really had." Nyota lectured softly to herself as she brought her kit into the living area. The room was still gray but Uhura thought she might be seeing a trace of color around the edges.

The staff was gathering in the foyer, waiting to bid their guests farewell. Kirk came in from the balcony; he had been quiet and introspective all morning and Uhura felt him withdrawing from her. It was not a cruel distancing, but a necessary one in order to transition back to the ship and its reality. She accepted it with grace, allowing no sadness to creep into her eyes. Her mind was busy rationalizing that it was all for the best--that she knew they would never truly be happy together--but her heart was still struggling with the idea. Yet, she was far closer to acceptance of it than when she had started the journey.

Kirk glanced her way, taking in that she was ready to go. A small smile crossed his face but Uhura saw that his mind was focused on other things, probably the farewell with Ramsha'ka and Anat. He waited for her to step up next to him before approaching the waiting staff.

It amazed Uhura to see him transform. Gone was the quiet, intense thinker, replaced by the witty and charming diplomat. He started at the far end, thanking each staff member for their warm hospitality and gracious service. Shorn crests fluttered in delight at his praise and deep bows followed one by one as he made his way up to Nesz and Pahzj.

Kirk stepped in front of the young Menage and took her hands, leaning forward and touching them to his brow. It was the courtly form of affection and rarely used outside of the Aristocratic caste, but he did it anyway. Nesz immediately glowed violet and her tiny crest fluttered non-stop. Uhura watched as he smiled warmly at the blushing woman, still holding her hands.

"And Nesz, we want to thank you for your tireless service and generosity during our stay. Lady Uhura and I will miss your care and devotion."

Uhura smiled brightly at Nesz, nodding and murmuring her agreement to his sentiment. She smiled all the more at how Kirk complimented from a Menage perspective, that service and devotion would mean far more to her than anything else he could say, while his affectionate gesture ensured she would be smitten for life.

Finally, letting go of Nesz's hands, Kirk turned his attention to the elder Potakai who stood proudly in front of him. As head householder Pahzj took responsibility for his staff, good or bad. The effusive praise had nearly caused him to burst with pride.

"Ah, Pahzj'dado," Kirk intoned solemnly, adding the rarely used honorific for someone in the Menage caste. As a 'common class,' they were considered familiar and intimate with everyone. To use an honorific meant something very special to a Menage.

"Please let me say that in all my travels I have never been so well cared for. You and your staff have taken care of every possible need for Lady Uhura and myself. I thank you for accepting us into your household."

Pahzj flushed a bit violet himself before regaining his composure.

"It has been and honor and a privilege to serve, Ambassador, My Lady." He bowed low to them both.

"And I have already sent your,'care packages,' as you called them, up to your ship. They seemed very excited at their contents." He remarked in surprise at how a few cases of sjobaberry juice, candies and a selection of liquors could generate such a commotion in orbit.

"Oh yes, Pahzj, you have made my Chief Engineer's day. Thank you again for the thoughtfulness." Kirk and Uhura laughed, mentally picturing Scotty cataloging his 'cultural education' items.

***

The journey to the Audience Hall seemed shorter than usual. Nyota really never wanted to see that place again. It brought unbidden images of berserkers and blood to her mind. The Federation couple had no idea what to expect--a packed house or just the Royal few.

Uhura was glad to see that their send off appeared to be a private affair, only Ramsha'ka, Lilu'ka, Anata'kel and Chota'kel in attendance. Not even Ronar'di was included. Pahzj took them to the base of the stairs, just as he had done several days ago and bowed in humble fashion, announcing his wards in the same tradition as before. However, this time, Ramsha'ka acknowledged the old Menage and they all chose to come down the steps to greet the humans. Uhura saw the look of surprise on Pahzj's face but he quickly schooled it into acceptance. She was sure the Menage was in for a lot more surprises in the days to come. Ramsha was the first to approach Kirk and he gave him a huge smile and a full dip of his crest. Lilu was quickly at his side, mimicking the gestures.

"Zhames, I will miss you. Are you sure you can't be enticed to stay on as our permanent Federation Ambassador?" He asked in a teasing manner.

"Thank you, Your Highness. Your offer would be tempting if I didn't have a ship that needed me." Kirk answered with some sincerity.

"Ah yes, your ship. I'm afraid you have been a bad influence on Chota'kel--he has talked of nothing but spaceships since his rebirth. I fear I am in dire risk of losing a large portion of my fleet to him. Is this how you repay me for the glory of being my heir?" He cast a playfully reproachful look between the starship captain and the Seka caste leader.

"How scandalous--he's only getting a portion of the fleet?" Kirk quipped in mock horror. "I thought I would have taught him better. And speaking of heir--have you named a new one, or am I still on standby?"

"No, sad to say, but I have named Grandmother as my heir until I find a more suitable choice. It bends the rules a bit, but at least she is Potakai." Ramsha grinned sheepishly.

Kirk laughed at the implied insult and shook his head.

"I'm not sad in the least. She has proven to be a strong leader and an excellent tactician. I hazard the ranks will settle down now soon enough."

Anat chose that moment to step into the fray.

"Zhames, you know me so well." She leaned in and kissed him on either cheek--the other Potakai, shocked at her audacity.

"Oh, do come now, Zhames is Human and I merely bid him farewell in the manner of his people. If we must tell him and Nyota goodbye at such an unseemly hour and all alone instead of in great honor, do not act appalled at a small token of affection." She admonished the scandalized glances cast her way, but winked at Kirk and beamed an unrepentant smile. He returned her grin with one of his own, not the least bit embarrassed by her kiss.

"I can never repay the debt I owe both you and Nyota." She continued more somberly, taking them both into her gaze.

"You have given my world a chance at survival and my people a direction in which to grow. The next years will be happy years-- ones not so lonely for me now." She ended almost shyly, looking back at Chota and motioning for him to join her.

"Anata'kel it has been an honor to know you and help in any way I could. I think the Federation is a better place with the Potakai included."

"Zhames," still a man of few words, Chota held out his hand in human-fashion, offering a handshake by way of farewell.

"Chota'kel," Kirk grasped the strong hand and shook it firmly.

Uhura felt the Seka turn his gaze on her. He dropped Kirk's hand and took up her own, bowing low and touching them to his brow.

"My Lady, thank you once again for my life. I am forever your servant and am indebted to your house."

"I was honored to be of service, Chota'kel, and Potakai is richer to still have such a leader." Nyota answered sincerely. For all the turmoil this mission created, the one thing she would never regret was saving their lives.

"Nyota," Anat said reverently as she stepped toward the smaller Human. "I wish it known you are always welcome on Potakai and have a home with the Torga household. And I offer sincere apologies for any wrongs you feel you may have suffered at my whim."

Uhura had to take a deep breath to sustain her; the feelings of gratitude pouring into her from Anat were overwhelming. The last of her anger crumbled under the onslaught and she felt joy in Anat's heart for the forgiveness. As she composed herself, Ramsha'ka and Lilu'ka stepped up to her.

"Lady Uhura, on behalf of the Potakai Star System, I wish to award you the 'Kel'kai' Dia'tane,' or Golden Star of Valor. A representation of the heart, mind and soul of the Potakai mente and offered to you as our humble token of gratitude for the great service you performed for us.

Lilu opened a jewel-encrusted case and allowed Ramsha to lift out a golden five-pointed star threaded on a black ribbon. He motioned for Uhura to lean forward so he could drape it over her head and allow it to rest upon her shoulders. Still in shock, she stood numbly as he scooped up her hands and touched them to her brow in the same expression of affection.

Uhura looked around to see Kirk's reaction to all the attention she was awarded. He stood there and gave her an affectionate grin, obviously not surprised at her being given a medal; in fact, he was acting rather proud of it.

"Zhames, please inform Starfleet and the Federation of the Lieutenant's great assistance to us. We intend to send a formal notice, but that may take a bit longer to get through the diplomatic channels." Ramsha asked of Kirk as he followed her stare. Lilu quickly stepped up and pressed the jeweled case into Ny's hands.

"Of course, Your Highness, it goes without saying." Kirk answered Ramsha, but beamed a genuine smile at Nyota, taking away what little composure she had regained.

The Royals backed away from the humans in a gesture of farewell. Uhura shook herself back to the present and stepped into position next to Kirk as he flipped open his communicator.

"Kirk to Enterprise--two to beam up." He requested as he had on countless other occasions--but this time he looked over at Uhura, holding her gaze for a long moment before the sparkle took them away.

***

They materialized within the familiar confines of the main transporter room. Uhura felt at home as she took in the faces staring back at her--Scotty's, Kyle's and McCoy's--but Spock's was nowhere to be seen. This surprised her, but apparently not Kirk. He stepped off the platform and absently reached back to assist her down as well. It was more attentive behavior than he would have given her in the past, but not too much of a stretch, considering she was still wearing heels.

"Mister Scott, inform Mister Spock to take us out, and ask him to meet me in my quarters in fifteen."

"Aye sir, will do--and I wanae thank ye for the 'care packages.' Mister Pahzj sent up another ten after ye left him this morning. He said he wanted to ‘make' many days for me. A fine gentleman, that one is." Scotty beamed from his newfound wealth. Uhura glanced at Kirk and they both laughed, the buried tension between them eased by the sweet brogue of the engineer.

"Aye Lass, that's some pretty pendant ye be wearing. Might it be a medal for saving the Royal Family?" Scott asked as he caught sight of the golden star around her neck.

"Yes, Mister Scott, you would be right--and I dare say more of those are to come the Lieutenant's way." Kirk answered proudly as Ny blushed.

"It's embarrassing to get a medal for just doing your duty." She answered shyly to Scotty.

"Then let's say you did more than that... and as an early reward, take the rest of the day off. Regular duty can start in the morning." Kirk offered with a knowing smile and gentle nod of his head for her to get gone.

"Thank you, sir" she answered in crisp, military fashion, doing her best to be nothing but thankful and professional. As she turned to go, McCoy stepped up to her and caught her eye.

"Lieutenant, I trust everything went all right after I left?"

"Yes sir, nothing that hypospray couldn't fix." She replied smartly, answering only his surface question. Whether she was referencing her shot, or Kirk's, she left up to McCoy to determine.

"Good. How about we get that pysch scan out of the way this afternoon, shall we?" He asked kindly, his keen eyes heartened by her confidence.

"Yes sir, I'd like that. I'm ready to get on with my life." Uhura answered softly, but now full of hope that she could do so.

"Good, Lieutenant. Now, did our patient follow orders?" McCoy asked a bit louder, bringing Kirk's interest away from Scotty and ship's business to his own. Ny noticed him tense just a fraction--waiting for her to answer.

"Oh, absolutely, Doctor. The Captain always follows orders." She grinned mischievously at Kirk, seeing him relax at her playful, but perfectly normal, reply. It was not as difficult as she feared it would be to find her old rhythm and pattern of interaction with him. After so much had happened between them, finding her old safe, but sassy, nuance had been a concern for her.

"Sure he does, Lieutenant...and which Captain were you discussing?" McCoy got into the banter, glad to see them comfortable with each other.

"That hurts, Bones. I always follow doctor's orders." Kirk offered in mock indignation.

"Yes, and you are going to prove it right now. I came to escort you to Sickbay for that date with my scalpel." McCoy tossed back, warming up for the inevitable delay.

"Give me an hour, Bones. I promise I'll be there in an hour. I need to touch base with Spock before you dope me all up." Kirk danced for time.

McCoy cut his eyes to Uhura and then to Scott and Kyle, looking at them as witnesses before zeroing back in on Kirk. "One hour--I have witnesses. If you're not there by then, I'm sending security after you. And you’d *better* hope I dope you up... ought to use a hammer and catgut..." He grumbled as he rocked up on his toes, aggravated by, but accepting, Kirk's terms.

"Go ahead, that's what I'll feel like you used anyway." Kirk shot back in a tone that spoke of past experiences. Scott and Kyle attempted to contain themselves as Kirk tossed them an aggrieved look before walking past the CMO and Comm Officer, bidding a tactical retreat.

***

Jim sat in his quarters and scanned over the backlog of messages in his queue--if anything, the few days McCoy would confine him to quarters would allow him an opportunity to catch up on them. He absently leaned back in his chair, but quickly sat back up, the edge of the chair gouging into his wounded shoulder and starting the throbbing pain again. He sighed and stared at his chronometer; Spock was not late--yet--but Kirk knew he would not choose to be early.

If he had any idea why Kirk wanted him to come to his quarters, he would stall for as much time as possible. Kirk wanted to ask Spock what he knew of his and Uhura's problem with the meld. Why they had practically become obsessed with each other? Or, to put in more succinctly, what did he know and when did he know it? The door chimed and Kirk glanced at the time--right on the nose.

"Come," he beckoned, allowing Spock to enter.

The tall Vulcan stepped in, calm and stoic. He scanned over his captain, taking in the slight cant of Kirk's shoulder and the tightness of his eyes, attempting to judge if this was more than a quick briefing.

"We have exited orbit, Captain, and are now underway to sector two-two-six for gaseous anomaly research. I trust the Potakai are adjusting to their new emperor and caste structure?" He inquired curiously, sensing nothing amiss from Kirk other than the pain of his delayed treatment.

"I think they will get through it." Kirk answered tiredly and motioned for Spock to sit. Spock sat in the proffered chair, allowing Kirk to stare at him straight-on as opposed to looking up and adding stress to his shoulder.

"Spock…" Kirk began hesitantly, but his eyes flared with keen interest. "Why did you really encourage me to--'act upon my mutual attraction'-- with Uhura? What did you know that you haven't told me?"

"I did not know anything." Spock answered back quickly--too quickly for Kirk's taste.

"All right, you didn't *know* anything. What did you *suspect* then?" Kirk sighed, knowing that any time Spock played semantics, he was in for a battle before getting what he wanted.

"Why do you think my reasons were anything other than what I stated? You risked losing a capable officer and you appeared to be the only man she desired."

"Hold it right there. How did you know that?" Kirk contested.

"Doctor McCoy informed me of the Lieutenant's fixation upon you."

Kirk's eyes lit up at the word 'fixation'. "And you didn't find that strange? That after such a deep meld, Uhura would suddenly be fixated--on me?"

"I often consider Human behavior strange." Spock offered in challenge, but Kirk didn't bite. He didn't chase rabbits as easily as McCoy. He just stared hard at Spock, waiting for a real answer.

"I did consider it unusual," was all that Spock would admit.

"And *my* behavior the past three months--did you consider it normal?" Kirk asked, dragging the answers out of him bit by bit.

"Your behavior was *more intense* than usual, but I surmised it was because of the trauma to one of your officers." Spock offered haltingly.

"And am I normally *so intense* when one of crew is injured? So intense you feel the need to escort me to the gym everyday and beat the *intensity* out of me?" Kirk asked, leaning across the table just a fraction.

"Injury to the crew often affects you for weeks. I assumed your fondness for the Lieutenant colored your emotions more than usual." Spock rebutted.

Tired of the game, Kirk snapped.

"Spock, don't sit there and play dumb with me. Fondness was hardly the color of my emotions where Uhura was concerned. You touched me enough to know that and still you thought that was normal?" He looked skeptically at Spock before continuing.

"No, you did not. And further, you recognized Uhura's behavior was not normal as well. So tell me, why did you encourage me to act upon my feelings for her? Why did you suddenly agree with McCoy that I could solve her problem?" He locked his eyes with Spock's and the Vulcan slumped infinitesimally in his chair.

"Because, once McCoy advised me of the Lieutenant's symptoms, I suspected you may have become fixated with each other during the meld.

"And…you thought that my sleeping with her would cure this…fixation?" Kirk asked, trying to lead Spock to explain further.

"There was scant data, but my research suggested that as a viable option. The only other choices were another meld--one I felt ill-equipped to perform--or seeking out a Vulcan healer, and that was not realistic considering the urgency of our mission."

Kirk's shoulders slumped as he shook his head. "Did you ever think that if you had just told me of your suspicions, I might have reacted differently?" He asked sadly, hurt that even after all they had been through together, Spock still hesitated to come to him without facts.

"I did not have enough pertinent data to present to you. You would not have accepted the choice any better than you did without my suspicions."

"You don't know that." Kirk cut him off.

"Jim, did any of our arguments convince you to act? Look into yourself and see what caused you to change your mind."

Kirk cut his eyes at Spock, raising his chin in consideration of what the Vulcan had just inadvertently confessed. Kirk knew Uhura's resignation to defeat had caused him to reach out to her, but how did Spock know he had done anything at all? The Vulcan, who never made assumptions, wasn't making one now either. Changing tactics, Kirk asked, ""How did the fixation happen, Spock? What went wrong?"

"I believe you overwhelmed the partitioning of your personalities that I had established before removing myself from your interaction."

"--But you weren't affected?" Kirk asked quickly.

"I was not. I was merely the bridge between your minds." Spock added, trying to assuage Kirk's fear.

"Good, good," Kirk answered absently, almost to himself.

"But Spock, don't ever do that again." Kirk warned quickly. "Come to me if you ever suspect something is not right. Let me make the choice based upon all the data. Don't just manipulate the circumstances to achieve your goal. I won't be angry with you, or blame you if you talk to me up front. Now, dismissed. I have a surgery date with McCoy--hold the fort down for me, okay?" He smiled at the Vulcan, motioning for him to go.

"Yes, sir." Spock replied with just a hint of relief in his voice. He had nearly made his escape when Kirk called out--looking at him through the open doorway. His voice low, carrying just to the Vulcan.

"You were there, weren't you?" The Human's gaze tore through his defenses, stealing the truth from him before his shields could mask the answer reflected in his own eyes. Frozen in place, no words were needed. He was trapped by Kirk's stare as he saw through Spock all too easily. His salvation came solely by the automatic closure of the cabin door. Spock took a step back, ensuring it did not open again in sensing his presence and fervently computed the odds that Jim would not open it from the other side. His face flushed in shame as he hurried to the sanctuary of the Bridge.

***

Uhura walked into sickbay just as McCoy walked out of the surgery suite. He looked tired but pleased when he caught her staring at him from near the doorway.

"Hello, Lieutenant, right on time. Just give me a minute to clean myself up and we can get started." He gave her a big smile.

"Sure, Doctor." She smiled back as she sat down in the chair near the inner doorway. "Is the Captain going to be all right?" She asked anxiously, taking his happiness as a good sign.

"Yes, in a few days he'll be wrestling Sam again down in the gym. He's damn lucky I'm so good with catgut." He laughed wickedly as he dried his hands and motioned her to accompany him to the exam room. Just before she followed him in to find out her fate, she stopped and asked quietly.

"Doctor McCoy, do you think I might be able to check in on the Captain after my scan? I promise I'll be quiet. I'd just like to be the one to tell him I passed my test."

McCoy gave her a warm, fatherly smile. "Sure, Uhura. I think that would be just what the doctor ordered."

***

An hour later, Uhura came out of the exam room wearing a smile a laser cannon could not erase. McCoy followed in her wake, grinning almost just as proudly.

"Congratulations, Lieutenant. I knew you could do it." He broke protocol and hugged her in excitement.

"Thank you, Doctor, for having faith in me." She murmured against his cheek as she hugged him back. How wonderful it felt to be able to love and touch again without fear.

"Do you think the Captain is awake now?" She asked in anxious anticipation.

"Let's go find out." McCoy slipped his arm around her shoulder and steered her toward the recovery ward. The doors opened to cool air and dim lighting, a soft steady beep keeping time with Jim's heartbeat. Christine looked up and smiled at them as they neared the bed containing her only patient. Chapel looked at Uhura, raising her brows in an unspoken question. Uhura nodded her head like a giddy schoolgirl and the nurse rushed around the bed to give her a congratulatory hug.

"Is he awake?" Uhura whispered in Christine's ear.

"He's in and out. We have him on some pretty strong meds, but if you call his name he'll open his eyes." Christine answered sympathetically, understanding Uhura's desire to share her good news.

Uhura gave her a big smile as Chris let her go and walked out of the ward with McCoy. She was surprised, but appreciative of the privacy they allowed her. She looked down at the sleeping man on the biobed. Kirk lay on his stomach, his back and shoulders exposed, but a sheet draped the rest of him. His shoulder was smooth again, the dermaplas bandage gone along with most of the bruising. His peaceful face was turned to the left, still so innocent and vulnerable in repose. Ny reached out and stroked his cheek, unable to resist touching him this one last time. His eyes opened at her touch, trying to see who was in the room with him. Ny pulled a chair up near his bed and sat down, leaning in so she would be at eye level with him.

"Hello, Captain." She smiled into his face, waiting while his eyes fought to focus.

"Hi" he managed to say once he recognized her.

"Doctor McCoy let me in for a moment so I could be the one to tell you I passed my pysch scan. He's released me back to active duty." She reached out and brushed his hair back out of his eyes.

"I knew you would." He tried to nod, but settled for giving her a sleepy smile.

"I did because you helped me; I owe my life on Enterprise to you." She whispered as he lost the battle to keep his eyes open. Leaning down, she kissed him on the cheek and breathed, "Thank you," into his ear. A sweet smile lit up his face for a few seconds before the meds claimed him again. Uhura kissed him on the temple once more, saying goodbye to so much more than just her captain. She straightened the sheet over his back and walked out the door--a journey of a few meters than claimed a lifetime.

***

The rec room was alive with the sounds of her friends. Uhura could not remember a sweeter sound as she let the laughter and general nonsense seep into her skin. Chekov popped up like a prairie dog from a corner table and yelled, "Uhura, over here!"

She sauntered over to the table where Chekov sat in high excitement and Sulu gave her a pained look, warning her she probably did not want to hear this. She could tell he didn't.

"Nyota, I am glad you're back! I need someone as ferocious as you to protect me. I don't know vat has heppined to all the women on board, but dey have suddenly lost der minds and have started to smack me on de butt venever they can!"

Uhura burst out laughing--all the old dares coming back to her from that night a few weeks ago.

"Vat is so funny? Ewen Nurse Chapel hez gone crazy. She pinched me vile she vas giving me a shot!"

"Oh, Pavel, lighten up." She quipped at the outraged Russian. "I think you have a cute butt too--can I pinch it?" She reached down as if to do just that and he slapped her hand away.

"Certainly not!" He barked, offended at first and then considered her statement further. "You really tink I heve a cute butt?" He asked curiously. Sulu rolled his eyes and implored Uhura not to egg on this nightmare.

"Well, not as cute as Sulu's, but it's pretty cute." She answered conspiratorially. Perking up at being ranked higher, Sulu regained interest in the conversation.

"Nyet. I tink my butt is much cuter than Sulu's." Chekov replied indignantly. Uhura laughed until tears glittered in her eyes; oh how she had missed the silliness and love of her friends.

***

Uhura wandered in to dim lighting in her quarters, thankful she had had the foresight to realize soft lighting would be a blessing. She had drunk and partied, giggling and laughing with everyone, intent upon catching up for lost time and opportunities. Later on, Chris had joined them, allowing her to celebrate her real victory with someone in the know. She had told Chekov and Sulu that McCoy had released her back to full duty, but it wasn't the same as sharing with someone who knew the whole story.

Much later in the celebration, Mister Spock had ghosted through the room--she had made eye contact from across the room and he had given her a single nod of acknowledgement. It gave Uhura goosebumps how much he reminded her of Chota'di. That Chota'di was now Chota'kel and reminded her of a very different man did nothing to erase the eeriness of Spock's dark eyes and knowing look.

As she stripped off her tunic, she saw the glow from her monitor and walked around to turn it off, silently chastising herself for leaving it on. As her hand rested on the toggle, her fingers froze as her eyes absorbed the message glowing on the screen--the sender anonymous but hardly a secret to her.

Let me confess that we two must be twain,

Although our undivided loves are one:

shall those blots that do with me remain,

Without thy help, by me be borne alone.

In our two loves there is but one respect,

Though in our lives a separable spite,

Which though it alter not love's sole effect,

Yet doth it steal sweet hours from love's delight.

I may not evermore acknowledge thee,

Lest my bewailed guilt should do thee shame,

Nor thou with public kindness honour me,

Unless thou take that honour from thy name:

But do not so, I love thee in such sort,

As thou being mine, mine is thy good report

Ny's eyes watered as she read the words over and over, so touching and sweet a sentiment from the man in sickbay now sleeping a dreamless sleep. Uhura hit the print key to mortally capture in hard copy the words that had stenciled themselves into her heart.

Finis

~ID'ic

Healing Touch Chapter 14 K/U [NC-17]

2010-04-11T13:00:00.002-05:00

Image manipulation courtesy of mostly me

Disclaimer: Paramount owns Star Trek. I only own my fantasies.

Feedback: Yes please, here or by email.

Beta: Sincere gratitude goes to: Nyotava, Bandicca, Zapp and Trekskitten for such wonderful betaing! Each of them brought fresh insight and used their unique expertise to make this story a reality.

Summary: A sequel to "My Faith in You," addressing Uhura's recovery from a brutal attack and the depths of Kirk's commitment to keep her in his world.

***

Ronar'di was the first to greet them as they re-entered the Audience Hall.

"Ah, Ambassador, fortunate for you it was old General Mora'di who turned rogue instead of me. Otherwise, you would not have been so lucky." The new, young Warrior Chief of Staff fairly beamed at him and ignored Uhura, the winner of that confrontation, altogether. So different from Chota'di, this one.

"Yes, my good fortune, I'm sure." Kirk answered back with a smile that did not reach his eyes.

Ramsha'ka and Lilu'ka approached in a quick step, obvious relief on their faces as they took in the sight of the two humans. Ronar stepped back, allowing them some privacy.

"Ambassador, My Lady, Grandmother said you were injured and that your doctor was treating you. It pleases us to see you both well." Ramsha'ka voiced sincerely. Both Aristocrats scanned over the two Humans, trying to ensure they were fine. They sensed discord, but not the reason for it.

"Thank you for your concern, Your Highnesses." Kirk answered with a slight bow of his head. The movement caused a slight twinge of his eyes--neither Potakai saw it, but Uhura did.

"Speaking of Anata'ka, where is the Dowager?" Kirk asked casually.

"She and Chota'di are in deep conference with the crèche mothers and the high priest. Both your actions have caused quite a stir amongst the hierarchy and households. I cannot say I disagree with her, now that she has told me what your plan was, but I'm glad she did not confide in me earlier. I would not have allowed it."

The new emperor shook his head in resignation as Uhura stared at him in shock. He was *glad* Anat kept it to herself? He was *happy* to have been excluded? Ramsha'ka turned to her, his attention drawn by her tiny start of surprise, but Lilu chose that moment to speak.

"And Nyota, how brave of you to engage Mora'di. A Potakai berserker is nothing to trifle with, but then it should be a given that neither is a Starfleet officer. Now I know it is a fallacy to assume our greater height makes us superior in battle. You proved today that your human strength far surpasses anything we consider normal."

Uhura recognized Lilu's intervention as just that--a way to distract Ramsha and change the topic. Thankful, she smiled gratefully at the Empress, even if the new topic was not much better.

"Thank you, Your Highness." Accepting the praise with only a slight flush, Nyota felt their attention upon her. She felt Kirk's gaze upon her, quietly assessing her response, but now the smile on his face was genuine.

"Well, shall we make our entrance to the ball, now? It still started on time." Ramsha'ka grinned at the humor of partying in the face of adversity.

"Since I have no idea when Grandmother shall finish her discussions, and you are still my heir, I think it apropos that we greet the households together."

"I'm sure that will liven up the party." Kirk replied in his best deadpan. "Any idea how long I'm going to own my new title?"

"What, Zhames, tired of dodging threats already?" Ramsha laughed loudly.

"No, no--it's not that, exactly--it's just that Starfleet frowns on its officers moonlighting as planetary rulers." Kirk answered mildly.

Laughing harder, Ramsha answered as he motioned them toward the ballroom. "I promise to relieve you of that title soon, but let them ponder it for awhile…."

***

The party had gone on for hours and showed no sign of slowing down, their entrance only a slight hiccup in the grand celebration.

Uhura tried to focus on what one of the Governors was saying to her as they danced Potakai-style. She felt like she had danced with every man in the room--some of them twice--and wanted nothing more than to sit down and enjoy some peace and quiet for a few minutes. In Potakai tradition, she and Kirk had split up and worked the room separately. Tonight she was grateful for the custom because it allowed her some time to sort through her emotions and figure out why she was so angry with him.

It boiled down to a matter of trust. He had not trusted her and that hurt. Keeping Anat's plan to himself was tantamount to lying, and after his speech about honesty their first night together, that hurt even more. No trust and no honesty equaled no respect--and that hurt most of all. She was no longer sad; now she was mad. Such realizations had kept her at a slow simmer all night.

She glanced across the dance floor and saw Kirk dancing in Human fashion with Lilu. She noticed, not for the first time tonight, that his left hand was resting low on his partner's hip. Most of his dances had been at the female's request and nearly all of those had been in some version of Human dance. Whether this was his choice or theirs, she did not know. However, the dreamy looks on the women's faces made her suspect them as the culprits, while Kirk acquiesced so he didn't have to hold his injured arm up for long. The bitch inside of her took guilty pleasure in knowing their hands resting on his shoulder had to be painful.

The music stopped in mid-tune and everyone turned to the entryway. Standing there in full Royal posture was Anata'ka, and at her side Chota'di, who no longer wore a uniform, but instead a handsomely tailored suit. After a moment of everyone frozen in place, Ramsha'ka walked up to them, greeting her as an equal and in obvious acceptance. Soon, the others followed. Uhura's current dance partner graciously excused himself and made his way to the Dowager as well.

Finally able to take a break, Uhura sat down at a corner table, grateful for the respite and in no hurry to greet Anat. If she was angry with anyone right now more than Kirk, it was Anat. She had manipulated them all, playing with their emotions and their fears in order to orchestrate her plan.

"Are you ready to greet the new clan leaders?" Kirk asked quietly, catching Uhura off guard. His tone was guarded, not expecting a change in her attitude since their last encounter.

"That's why we stayed, isn't it? To be--seen? To show the Potakai we won't be scared away by some little attempted assassination?" She whispered back sarcastically.

Kirk's face clouded and she expected to be busted back to ensign, if not worse, but whatever he started to say was swallowed as he took a deep, cleansing breath before trying again.

"If you want to look at it that way. I prefer to think we're helping stabilize a culture that just might tear itself apart and maybe salvage a relationship between the Federation and the Potakai. But maybe that's just me. Now, are you ready to make our appearance?" The tone was a question, but the look that came with it was an order.

"Yes, sir." She answered tightly as she took his proffered right arm, for once not interested in the bigger picture.

The crowd parted before them, acknowledging their rank without demure. Uhura found herself face to face with Anat and Chota'di much too soon.

"Ah, Zhames, you look much better than last I saw you. I am very glad you are still with us." She smiled with deep sincerity at him before turning her attention toward Uhura.

"And Nyota, I am forever in your debt for saving all our lives. Your courage saved millions of lives, not just us few." The Dowager actually bowed to the stunned consort.

"You're welcome, Your Highness, but I just did my duty." Uhura murmured quietly, she had no wish for Anat to feel any obligation to her.

"Yes, I know. Strange how duty interferes with reason and normal behavior--taking hold of one and bending them to its will." Anat remarked in a conversational tone, but her eyes were focused on Uhura's face.

"Yes, strange indeed." Nyota answered to all the layers of her statement.

"Zhames!" Chota'di exclaimed in barely contained enthusiasm. "It's all so clear to me now." He flashed a most Kirk-like smile at them and Uhura felt her world spin around. Kirk grinned back and it was like an old camera negative was being compared to its photograph. He did not even ask what was so clear, because Kirk knew, even if the others did not.

"And now you have years to explore all of it." Anat spoke lovingly to Chota, briefly excluding them from her conversation with her -- what? What was Chota'di to her now?

"So, Zhames, may I have one last dance? I promise good behavior and no tugging on your shoulder." Anat's smile started out impish, but the mention of his injury subdued it.

"Of course, Your Highness. I would be honored." Kirk bowed slightly, then escorted the Dowager onto the floor.

The crowd parted, recognizing dismissal when they saw it. Uhura watched them move together--Anat at her word, keeping her hands at Kirk's waist and right shoulder--knowing that the Dowager merely wanted a private forum to speak with Kirk.

"Nyota, would you teach me that dance?" The warm tone and familiar smile unnerved her as she looked up at the tall Potakai.

"Of course, Gen- I mean Chota-di." Uhura caught herself, moving out on the floor with him and placing one of his hands around her waist and holding the other in a firm grasp.

"Oh, it's not Chota'di anymore either. Now I'm known as Chota'kel, just as Anat is now known as Anata'kel. Kel means 'star' and we are now clan leaders of the Seka Caste--those who would seek out the stars." His chest puffed out in pride as he said this, his normally somber face totally surrendering to his new grin.

"We may never get to see the stars ourselves, most of our immediate future will be spent dealing with establishing our new caste. Mostly, hammering out the protocols with the crèche mothers and brokering with Ramsha'ka for part of his fleet." He mused in a mixture of excitement and resignation.

"It sounds like quite a challenge." Nyota answered distractedly as they moved across the floor. He had picked up the steps rapidly and was leading quite well.

"Why are you angry with Zhames and Anat?" He asked curiously, causing Uhura to falter and miss a step.

"Quit reading my mind." She said flatly, attempting to warn him off.

"Anat is the mind-reader. I am merely observant." He replied with a too-innocent air.

"Was it so wrong to save millions of Warriors--to find a way to channel our instinctive aggression into something less destructive?"

Ohhhh…. The look and the logic were getting to her.

"Not when you put it that way, no, I guess not. It wasn't the goal that was the problem, but how it was carried out." She finally voiced.

"Ahh--and you were excluded and that has made you angry--especially with Zhames." He spoke mostly to himself, trying to understand her anger.

"I don't want to discuss it." She warned again.

"Anat asked him to keep her secret. She expressly asked him not to share with you for fear of it becoming known--"

"For fear I might not be able to keep a secret you mean." She bit back.

"No, for fear another sensitive might attempt to read your thoughts. Nyota, even I, who had the most to gain personally, would have struck her down to stop such a plan. I would have had no choice but to act upon my pono tomau. As a Human, I'm sure that is something very hard for you to understand, but you do understand duty. It would have been the harshest order I could ever imagine, but I would have carried it out."

"I liked you better when you were the strong, silent type." Uhura retorted testily.

Chota's crest flattened in surprise at her barb, but his smile did not falter.

"But my eyes were closed to so many possibilities then, Nyota. Do you wish me still blind to the beauty before me? Did you know your eyes glitter like stars when you are angry?"

"Now you're sounding too much like him. Stop it. Turn the charm down a few degrees."

Chota tried to look contrite, but even in that, Nyota saw Kirk's mannerisms. She kept it to herself, but she could not control a slight roll of her eyes.

"Excuse me, I do find strange thoughts popping into my head. Anat assures me they will dissipate, that my new insight will settle and mesh with who I've always been." He offered, not in apology, but merely by way of explanation.

"But you're still angry with him…" Chota continued, not willing to let the subject drop.

Uhura looked around the room, seeking an escape from his questioning. She noticed Jim and Anat were still together, dancing closely. It was obvious they were in deep communion.

"You could leave, but someone would notice. They would wonder why the Consort runs from the Ambassador."

"I'm not running--" she hissed, but realized it was exactly what she was thinking, "--from him." She added. "I'm just not interested in answering your questions. Why do you care if I'm angry?"

"Ah, so you are angry." He grinned as if getting this tiny confession out of her was all he wanted.

"Fine. I'm angry. Now are you happy?"

"No, I am not happy that you're angry, but I am glad that you admitted it to me." He clarified, her sarcasm lost in translation.

"It matters to me in that I like you and owe a great debt of gratitude to you both, to Zhames for giving me a new perspective on life, and to you, Nyota, for giving me a new perspective on love. I do not wish to see such anger between two I respect so much."

Uhura looked up into the yellow eyes that looked tenderly into her own. Her anger, at least at Chota'kel, vanished and she smiled shyly in response to the warmth his look generated within her.

"Don't worry, we'll work it out between us. We've been through too much together for this to end our relationship." She hoped that was not a lie.

***

The ball finally wound down, allowing the Federation couple to excuse themselves. Anat had always been somewhere else when Uhura had briefly found herself partner-less. Now, as they bid their farewells, she stood proudly, towering over Uhura with no semblance of shame. Her eyes were warm, but guarded, as she acknowledged their bland pleasantries. Uhura found it eerily strange to only be conversing with her on a verbal level for a change.

Kirk stepped up next to her, offering his own goodnights to the Aristocrats and Sekas. He drew near, but did not touch her as he encouraged Uhura to lead the way back to their apartments. He was quiet all the way back. A few stolen glances at him told Uhura he was in pain--the tightness around the eyes--telling. She kept the silence between them, knowing it would not last. Even through the veil of his command presence, she sensed anger from him. Good. She did not want to be the only one shouting.

As they entered their apartments, Pahzj asked if they needed anything else of him. Their murmurs of "No, thank you" were met with a hesitant bob of his head. He obviously sensed the tension between them, but had no idea what to do. After no further acknowledgement from either of them, he left.

Finally alone, Uhura stalked into 'their' bedroom, starting to collect her things. No, tonight she could not stay in this room. In fact, she might just choose to beam back to the ship. Let the ambassador make his excuses for her in the morning in their formal farewell.

"So, are you ready to tell me why you're so angry? Or do I just get to watch you throw things?" He asked baitingly as she missed her bag and tossed her brush on the floor.

Bending down to pick up the brush, she whirled on him, fire flashing in her eyes.

"You *knew* what Anat had planned--and you kept me in the dark! You nearly got killed and I nearly stood there and watched it happen!"

Hot tears of rage were running down her cheeks. Impotent rage that sent shivers down her spine. She knew she was out of control, but she did not care. Nothing mattered.

"You forget yourself, Lieutenant." Kirk's tone was cold and cutting, but Uhura had seen a look of surprise gloss his face before he schooled it into stone.

"I forget? I forget? Who forgot their big speech about honesty? Your silence was as good as a lie." She spit out between gritted teeth, pushing past him in dismissal as she continued to collect her gear.

"I never lied!" Kirk snapped as he reached out, his injury momentarily forgotten, and grabbed her as she passed him.

Uhura felt herself spun around and held in an iron grip. She looked up into his eyes and saw such a look of furious indignation that she cringed. Her cower made Kirk react as if someone had thrown ice water over him. He looked at his hands as they gripped her arms and made himself let go of her. He backed away, dropping his arms to his sides.

"I never lied to you." He repeated--this time deadly calm. "I promised Anat I would keep her confidence. I kept my word."

"What about your word to me?" Ny asked in anguish.

"Penda, Starfleet sent me here to bring the Potakai into the Federation, to make allies with Anat at all costs. She told me her price for that alliance and I paid it. It was for the greater good to risk myself rather than banish millions of Warriors to death. I'm sorry for hurting you in the process; it wasn't a matter of trust. I would have told you if I could have, but I won't apologize for carrying out my duty and honoring my oath. I told you I couldn't be more to you than I already was. My duty has to come first. It's not what I want but it is the reality of our situation." His voice softened at the last, as if he didn't have the energy or the desire to be angry anymore.

"Would you have told Spock if he were here instead of me?" She rubbed her tingling arms and backed away from him.

Turning away from her and looking out into the blackness of the sea, he answered. "No, I wouldn't have. He would have known, but I wouldn't have told him."

And Uhura knew he was right--Spock would have *known*--but she didn't, couldn't, and he should have told her so she could have better prepared to protect him....

"But you nearly died…" Was all she could think to say, the cruelness of that shock still pressing down on her.

"Yes, I nearly died, Penda, but I didn't--you saved me. Someday I might not be so lucky, but you can't keep me all tucked in and safe on the Bridge. Nobody can--not you, not McCoy, not Spock." He turned back to face her, all anger gone, replaced by a look of sad determination.

"And you'll push away anyone who tries…" She added to his decree.

"There are limits." He answered with quiet finality.

What were *her* limits? How did she fit into his life once back aboard Enterprise? How much had really changed between them? All these questions crashed into each other, forming the most important one that demanded an answer.

"What am I to you?" Uhura begged, the mystery of his true feelings more than she could bear. She had to know what she meant to him--here--now.

"You're beautiful." Kirk answered, reaching out to brush his fingers across her cheek.

Uhura flinched back from his caress, too aware he could control her with one touch. She let the anger she felt goad her to demand more from him: platitudes and stock answers were no longer good enough.

"I need more than that." Her voice was raspy, raw with emotion.

"You're the woman I see whenever I think of the Enterprise. You're acceptance, a safe haven, home. Your presence soothes and nurtures me. Your beauty makes my heart quicken."

To another woman, being compared with a ship would be insulting, but Uhura knew differently. She understood Kirk's relationship with his ship and how much he loved her, how much of his soul was tied to its being. But did that love transcend to her? She had to ask; she had to know.

"Does love have any place here?" She stared into his eyes, waiting for an answer--needing an answer.

Kirk stepped back and dropped his hands to his sides, mindful she would not allow his touch, aware he had touched her far too much already.

"Yes, a strong love, a forever love, a love worth dying for--but not an 'in love'." He answered in a halting voice. Uhura knew his confession was hard for him, but she refused to show pity. Instead, she kept staring, silently insisting he say more, his answer only begging more questions.

"My feelings about you are too entangled with the ship, our positions." Kirk began, struggling for words, his voice entreating her to understand.

"It's hard for me to see who you really are instead of what you've been to me. I've grown too attached to the loyalty and support you've given me to risk that on something I know we can't have."

Uhura watched as his eyes came into sharp focus, switching from introspection to suddenly challenging for his own answers. "What am I to you?"

"You're my protection from evil, my champion in battle, my handsome and gallant knight--and my image of you is far too perfect to be real. I'm in love with 'the Captain', but he is just a persona, an alter-go of the real man. The real man I barely know; I've only been allowed to see that man in glimpses--tired moments when the hero has let his guard down."

Uhura saw that he was stunned by her words. She held his eyes and continued, the words spilling from her lips and taking her anger with them.

"Would I be disappointed with the real man? No, but I think I would be consumed and burned to ashes if exposed for any length of time to the real James Tiberius Kirk. In many ways you remind me of Apollo--golden hair and skin, your warm eyes--so like the sun. Your intensity about life so brilliant, blinding to those who would dare to look at you. And like Apollo, you're trapped by your need to move, never allowed to linger in one place."

Uhura moved toward Kirk, no longer angry that he had kept her in the dark, finally accepting that he had done what he felt was right to honor his word. Her fear of losing him was still with her, a reconciliation still to be made. She reached out and stroked his face, forgiveness in her caress. He shut his eyes and leaned into her touch. She leaned in, kissing him tenderly on the lips, feeling his arms encircle her and pull her close before she pushed back a little--enough to finish what she needed to say.

"In love, as in life, you crave the rapids, and I prefer the deep, still waters. Somehow, right now, I think we're caught in an eddy line--a boundary between the two forces. We can't move backward or forward until we come to terms with our feelings for each other. I know you feel passionately about me, but only you can forgive yourself for feeling passionately for me. I absolved myself for loving you long ago."

With that she pulled him to her, kissing him as if there were no tomorrow. For her, there was not.

***

TBC

~ID'ic

Healing Touch Chapter 13 K/U [NC-17]

2010-04-03T11:59:00.003-05:00

Image a compilation of 'pretty'

Disclaimer: Paramount owns Star Trek. I only own my fantasies.

Feedback: Yes please, here or by email.

Beta: Sincere gratitude goes to: Nyotava, Bandicca, Zapp and Trekskitten for such wonderful betaing! Each of them brought fresh insight and used their unique expertise to make this story a reality.

Summary: A sequel to "My Faith in You," addressing Uhura's recovery from a brutal attack and the depths of Kirk's commitment to keep her in his world.

***

The bridge viewscreen was filled with the Potakai Ascendancy Processional in full tilt. Images from every angle were captured and presented along with a soft narrative by an off-screen commentator. Awash in a sea of color, the entire bridge crew was enthralled as each household marched by in their traditional garb. The boulevard used by the procession was lined with thousands of Potakai, all chirping and fluttering their crests. The entire screen was covered with spectators, no matter how wide a shot the camera panned.

A loud drum corps played a heady, reverberating beat. The rhythm was exciting, yet controlled the crowd. From the Conn, Spock noticed Sulu's hand tapping his console in unconscious mimicry of the compelling pulse. He felt it tug at the primitive center of his brain, but clamped down on his shields, blocking the entrancing rhythm.

McCoy and Christine came onto the Bridge and stepped down next to Spock. At his look of inquiry for their unrequested arrival, McCoy chimed in, his tone half-plea and half-challenge.

"The announcer said the last household was just about to march, Spock. Christine and I were tired of watching on our little screen and wanted to see the rest of the ceremony in detail. You can't begrudge us that, can you?"

"Very well, Doctor. However, please keep your comments to a minimum. I do not wish to be distracted." Spock warned.

McCoy started to retort back about being incapable of distracting such a stubborn Vulcan, but the serious gaze the first officer turned on him drew him up short. Spock was not bantering; he was worried.

"There they are!" Sulu yelled out, bringing all eyes back to the screen.

Emerging from the Torga archway, and the focus of a tight shot from the video feed, were Kirk and Uhura as they led their procession. A Company of female Warriors, all of equal Captain's rank, flanked them on all sides. Their faces were fully covered by tattoos, their crests a deep indigo tufted in white. No ceremonial palace guard, these were decorated and battle-proven Warriors meant for serious protection.

"My God! She is beautiful." Ignoring the Warriors, Chekov whispered in hushed awe.

"Stunning, my boy. Stunning." McCoy answered the young Russian, mesmerized by the woman before him.

There was no mistaking who they were talking about. Every man's eyes were locked upon the image of Uhura as she glided down the stairs at Kirk's side. She wore a brilliant white gown, richly brocaded in various insignia of the Federation homeworlds. The strapless gown was long and full, her crystal stilettos barely visible as she lifted its hem to aid her descent. Drawing attention to her décolletage, a matching wrap draped her shoulders, held closed by a golden Enterprise-emblem broach. A golden necklace and dangling earrings complimented her upswept hair and dramatic makeup.

As the Federation couple reached the bottom of the steps, Uhura dropped her hold on the hem of her gown and placed her hand on Kirk's proffered arm. Row after row of Torga Potakai followed their new household leadership down the boulevard.

Chapel studied her friend; a slight pang of jealousy thumping in her chest as she silently acknowledged how beautiful Ny was before turning her attention to Kirk. It was rare to see the Captain in anything other than his everyday uniform and the sight of him in civilian dress caught her off guard. He was gorgeous. Not attractive or handsome - but gorgeous. He wore a close-fitting outfit of midnight blue suede. The cropped jacket was trimmed in bronze cord along the seams and immaculately tailored to show off the breadth of his shoulders. While, Chris thought wickedly, the clinging pants highlighted the delicious curve of his butt. He wore a Federation pin over his heart and Chris was fairly sure two golden feathers were clipped in his hair near his temple.

"They look like they just stepped off the top of a wedding cake." Christine answered, putting her own spin on the imagery they presented. It was on the tip of her tongue to wax eloquent on whom she found attractive, but she kept her more risqué thoughts to herself.

The two marched in a slow, measured step, setting the pace and the tone for the hundreds following. Neither of their faces gave much away to those watching from the Enterprise. Kirk's eyes were serious, taking in all the activity around them. A ghost of a smile tried to lighten his face, but failed to unleash the sunshine they all knew he could blind them with. Uhura had a warm smile of her own, but a trace of apprehension clouded her eyes. That they were both on alert and nervous was about all that could be inferred from their body language.

Everyone sat up and took notice as the commentator remarked that Ramsha'ka had named Kirk as his heir in a special ceremony the night before. Spock's eyebrows were well past his hairline as he exchanged looks with McCoy.

"I take it this is news to you?" McCoy asked sarcastically.

"Affirmative, Doctor. The Captain made no mention of it during our morning briefing." Spock answered with just a hint of incredulousness.

"Well, Heaven forbid he should ever lead a dull mission. He would die from boredom."

"No, Doctor, he would not, but he may die from the repercussions of Ramsha'ka's decision to make him heir to the Potakai throne." Spock replied to McCoy's diatribe with quiet conviction.

Brought back to reality, McCoy demanded, "What the Hell does that mean, Spock?"

"It means that by choosing the Captain as heir, Ramsha'ka has made himself a lesser target to those who oppose his ascension to the throne. Now, his would-be opponents must consider the ramifications of his death: namely, the imposition of a Federation citizen as the head of their government."

"The Federation would never allow such a thing." McCoy scoffed.

"Exactly, but the Potakai do not know that. To them it is quite believable, and that, Doctor, is all that matters. It also makes Jim a far more desirable target to the opposition. Remove the heir first before renewing the attack upon the throne. "Fascinating; a highly strategic move, presumably made by the Dowager to bide time…"

"A strategic move with Jim's life, you pointy-eared calculator." McCoy blew up. "The Dowager has just possibly signed a death-warrant with Jim's name on it and you sit there and admire her strategy!"

"Doctor, calm yourself. It would appear Anata'ka has taken great pains to ensure the Captain's safety. Security is extremely tight throughout the entire city. All ships have been warned out of low orbit and she has surrounded him with a formidable guard. To allow something to happen to Jim only hastens an attack against Ramsha'ka, which she has gone to great pains to shield him from. I think it unlikely she wants anything to happen to the Captain."

"What she wants and what might happen are two different things, Spock. We need to warn him." McCoy growled.

"The Captain would have deduced all of this for himself, Doctor. You forget, he is an excellent tactician in his own right. I surmise his understanding of the threat explains both his and Lieutenant Uhura's state of alertness as they cross the processional - the most logical point for attack."

"Well, that's just dandy! Let's all just stand here and hold our breath while they cross the damn courtyard, why don't we?" McCoy bit back scathingly, impotent to do anything more than just what he had mocked.

***

Uhura took a deep breath as they entered the Audience Hall. It was not actually a sigh of relief--they still had to get through the ceremony--but at least she did not feel a sniper's scope targeting her now. They were not out of danger yet, but the security was tighter here inside the Hall. She felt Kirk give her arm a quick squeeze of reassurance. She looked up into his calm eyes and gained strength from him.

How did he do that? How did he always look like he could handle anything and make her feel that way too? Giving her a flash of his cocky grin, he started their march toward the dais, where the Royal Entourage and High Priest awaited them. Ny grinned back, feeling heady from the rush of adrenaline surging through her.

The scene was surreal, Warriors lining the walls and the aisles all the way to the dais, looking like a part of the decorations with their crests in full flare. Only the battle black of their armored uniforms bespoke of their potential role if something should go amiss. No weapons, save their ceremonial short swords, were allowed in the Hall, but Uhura had no doubt they were highly skilled in their use.

The march to the top of the dais seemed to take forever. Now, aware of the unrest within the Governor's ranks, she felt their tight scrutiny as she and Kirk passed row after row of each household along the way. Nearly all of the Governors stood at their approach--they did represent the House of Torga after all--but a few tried to remain seated. Ny felt herself brought up short and realized Kirk had stopped and turned to face the recalcitrant Governors, silently demanding that they offer their respect. She felt a shiver run along her spine at the stare down, but she kept her face composed. She glanced between the challenging glare of the Mescu Governor and the flinty stare of Kirk. She had seen Kirk's stare before, but he was usually facing a Klingon Commander, not a supposed ally. It was a battle of wills, but Ny thought that, with Anat's added urging from above, the Governor saw the error of his ways and grudgingly rose to his feet.

Seemingly satisfied that honor had been preserved, Kirk glanced hard at the other few governors who had started to show defiance. They quickly rose to their feet when the ringleader backed down, dropping their crests in a subtle apology. Kirk gave a slight nod of his head to each of them before continuing his march to the front.

When they reached the foot of the stairs, Kirk and Uhura continued to the top of the dais while the household members took their seats at the front of the Hall. The Aristocrats greeted them with warm smiles as protocol officers ushered them to their positions for the ceremonies. The Royals were all dressed in obscenely rich robes of traditional design and house colors. It nearly hurt to look at them.

The High Priest immediately took control of the assembly. He began his speech in that obscure dialect the translator struggled to comprehend.

A soft murmur of, / Don’t worry, I will tell you anything you need to know or do. / Flashed through Uhura's mind as Anat tried to put them at ease.

Actually, comprehending so little of the priest's words allowed Uhura to view the ceremony unfettered by anticipation. She watched as he chanted and anointed Ramsha'ka with the smoke of a pungent incense. The chant was picked up and repeated by everyone in the Hall.

Finally, it appeared it was time for power to be formally transferred from Anata'ka to Ramsha'ka. Anat turned to face her heir and placed her hands along his brow. They both closed their eyes and began a singsong chant of their own. This time, the Hall remained silent.

Upon completion of one verse, Anat motioned for Chota'di to detach himself from the bevy of Generals standing at the rear of the dais. He complied with exacting motion, unsheathing his sword and offering it to Anat in a gesture that needed no translation. With a deep drop of her crest, she accepted the symbol of his fealty and, in turn, presented it to Ramsha'ka.

Ramsha accepted the gift with all the reverence it demanded. He held the sword high and admired the rosy sheen the skylights bounced off its gleaming blade. He then turned it hilt-first and offered the sword back to Chota'di. The Warrior froze in the act of accepting his blade from his new liege lord. Once taken, it meant his loyalty was wholly and irrevocably transferred to Ramsha'ka from Anata'ka.

Uhura watched as Chota struggled with himself, trying to reach for the blade, but not able to do so. After a third attempt, he dropped his crest in defeat and stepped back to Anat's side. Uhura's heart broke. She knew he had tried to do as Anat had wished--to change for her--but the ancient drives were too strong. He would die before leaving her service, and her side. Ramsha'ka nodded his head once, both acknowledging the General's decision and agreeing with Chota's choice. The new emperor took the blade between his hands and snapped it in two, symbolically severing Chota'di from his service.

He then cast his eyes at the row of generals, challenging any to step forward and assume Chota'di's vacant position. One of the younger generals quickly stepped forward. His crest was proudly erect and the gold ribbons of service draped along the sleeves of his uniform fluttered in the sudden breeze of his advance. Uhura searched her brain for a name--General Ronar'di--she had met him once, at the reception, and pegged him as extremely ambitious to have reached that rank at such an early age.

Ramsha'ka stared hard at the brazen General, looking into his soul, attempting to find the bond of pono tomau he had so admired between Anata'ka and Chota'di. Ronar'di smiled at his liege. Acceptance by Ramsha would give him everything he had ever wanted in life and he would willingly give his blood to protect such a gift. Ramsha smiled back. He knew it was not the same sort of relationship his grandmother had shared with Chota, but he thought such daring ambition was a worthy substitute.

He reached out, silently demanding Ronar's sword. The General's smile beamed bright as he presented his sword and his service to his new master. Ramsha'ka took the blade and inspected it, then gave it back to his general, hilt-first. Once accepted, Ronar sheathed the blade and shadowed Ramsha as Chota'di did Anat.

Now it became time to address Potakai's acceptance into the Federation. Uhura heard Anat whisper in her mind to / be ready / as the priest led the assembly in another prayer chant.

Be ready for what? She had no part in the ceremony proper, only Kirk did. Ramsha'ka was emperor now, surely the threat had lessened. It did not matter; it was as if she had somehow transported to a higher plane of sound and sense out of her own body. She watched from afar in surreal slow-motion as Kirk took his position next to Ramsha. Uhura watched in exquisite detail as both kneeled in front of Anat as the Dowager placed her hands against their faces, calling for 'A Kef Bonz' chei', or a merging of souls. A rumble tore through the assembly--they had not expected this. The High Priest yelled something and made as if to break the bonds between the Human and the Potakai. Ronar'di stepped in and blocked the irate holy man.

A fierce yell from one of the remaining generals rang out as he made a charge against the Aristocrats. Chota'di had no weapon to block the deadly blow bearing down on Anat. Uhura watched in horrid fascination as Chota threw himself on Anat, trying to shield her with his body. Contact momentarily broken, Kirk became belatedly aware of the deathblow arcing toward both Chota and Anat. He pushed Ramsha back toward Ronar, moving him out of harm's way and launched himself over Chota--too far away to get to the berserker--but not too far away to use himself as a shield.

With sickening clarity, Uhura saw Kirk look her way; his eyes telling her goodbye as he prepared to take the blow meant for Anat. That look of finality stirred her to action--a millisecond of hesitation that seemed like eternity. Uhura yanked her wrap off her shoulders in one fluid motion, wrapping it around her arm as she moved in toward the attacker. The other generals broke rank, whether to attack or protect she did not know. They were not going to get there in time to affect the outcome of her altercation with the berserker.

Uhura reached the rampaging general just as his arm came down. His blow was meant to kill, to sever a body in one fell stroke. She threw her padded arm out, striking the General's arm and the hilt of the sword. She heard a sick crunch as the force of her awkward counterattack broke bone. A howl of pain mixed in with his war cry and the screams of the crowd.

The deadly swing was not stopped, just deflected, the angle and some of the fury flattened. Uhura continued her charge, using the advantage of the lesser gravity to run down the would-be assassin. She heard, more than saw, the blow land. It struck Kirk in the shoulder and sank into muscle before hitting bone and scraping along the flat of his scapula. Uhura rolled to her feet, grinding the heel of her stiletto into the attacker's hand, piercing it and forcing him to release the weapon. The other generals closed in and she was relieved to see them take the traitor in hand rather than finish his mission.

She rushed to the pile of bodies on the dais, seeing red blood pour from Kirk's wound. Loosening the wrap off her arm, she saw it already smeared with blood but had no thought as to how it had gotten there. She quickly folded it to make a pressure bandage, pressing it against the large gash she could see in Kirk's shoulder. He grunted in pain and Ny realized she had never heard such a sweet sound. Sound meant he was alive and all she had to do was keep him that way.

Kirk struggled to sit up, attempting to free Chota and Anat, who were still buried under him. Ronar rolled off Ramsha and Lilu, where he had pulled them both down in a similar protective gesture.

"Help me up." Kirk hissed between gritted teeth.

Uhura pulled him to a sitting position, trying to keep pressure on his wound at the same time. Chota quickly moved off Anat once he was freed to do so. His focus was intent on making sure she was all right.

The Dowager reached out and gripped Kirk's arm, as if trying to use him for leverage to sit up. Her grasp caused another grunt of pain from Kirk. Then Uhura found herself down on the floor with them--a roar of shock and pain passing all the way through her. The pandemonium of the crowds was hushed as they all collapsed--stunned from the same psychic blast Uhura felt--however, being much more psi sensitive, the effect was more devastating to them than to the humans.

/ Hurry! We haven't much time, Nyota. I have used Zhames' pain to stun everyone, but it won't last long. Get him to sit up and then help me to get Chota into position. / Anat screamed in her head.

Uhura did as she was told, scrambling to get Kirk in an upright position and then quickly move to help Anat rouse Chota from the stupor that had dropped him. What was the Dowager planning to do? Slick with Kirk's blood, Anat placed her hands against both men's temples, quickly starting a chant in a pleading, desperate voice. Uhura watched in bewilderment, but somehow knew Anat must succeed in whatever she was attempting. Taking up the makeshift pressure bandage, she once again held it tightly against the gash in Kirk's shoulder. The heavy wrap was no longer white; instead it, and much of her gown, was stained a deep crimson.

With her one free hand she fumbled for Kirk's communicator, finding it tucked in his breast pocket. It took two times to flip it open as she attempted to call for aid. She had to get through to Enterprise--Kirk was bleeding badly and she did not know if a Potakai doctor could treat him.

"Enterprise! Medical Emergency. Beam Doctor McCoy down immediately." She ordered over the answering chirp.

***

The scene went from stylized formality to chaos in less than the blink of an eye. One second Kirk was in the middle of a ceremony involving Anat and Ramsha, the next bodies were flying all over the place. The bridge crew watched in horror as Kirk threw himself over the Dowager and General Chota'di, trying to shield them from the berserker's attack with his own body. Almost in unison, Uhura launched herself at the assassin, using her stole as padding to protect her arm and deflect the worst of the vicious swipe that would have cleaved Kirk in two.

The angle of the blow was deflected but still made nauseating contact with Kirk. Spock flinched with the impact, as if he had taken the blow himself. They watched as Uhura drove her heel into the hand of the berserker, finally forcing the weapon from him. The next moment, she was at Kirk's side, using her wrap as a pressure bandage against the bloody remains of his shoulder.

McCoy was on his way to the turbolift, determined to get down there no matter what, when he heard Spock gasp and collapse against the command chair. He froze in indecision, but Spock motioned for him to go to Kirk. Freed from the agony of two patients, McCoy barked out orders.

"Christine, take care of Spock. Palmer, call M'Benga up here. Tell him Spock has collapsed and that I'm going down to the planet."

Scotty was in the transporter room arguing with Potakai Security to lower the planetary shields over the capital. McCoy paced on the platform, medikit in hand, as the Scot announced they had a medical emergency down on the planet and that Anata'ka herself had demanded a Human doctor. Silence spoke volumes as the Potakai on the other end digested that bit of bluff before agreeing to lower the shields just long enough to beam McCoy down.

"Ge' down with yer'self, Man." The engineer waved the CMO to stand still. "God Speed." He prayed as McCoy vanished.

***

Uhura looked up at the chaos that was going on around her just in time to see McCoy coalesce from the transporter sparkle. Immediately, two Warriors began to close on him, blocking him from his patients.

"Get out of my way! I'm Chief Medical Officer Leonard McCoy of the USS Enterprise and you're interfering with my treatment of the Ambassador!" McCoy practically roared and, with no thought of his own safety, pushed past the Potakai defense.

"Doctor! The Captain has been injured. He has a deep gash on his left shoulder." Uhura reported to him as soon as he was clear of the Warriors.

McCoy's eyes took in the scene, automatically assessing the situation as he closed the distance between them. Seeing Kirk mostly conscious slowed his frantic rush, allowing him to glance around the dais, looking for some place to lay Kirk down.

/ Take him to the back. There is a doorway leading to privacy and safety. /

Uhura knew Anat was mentally directing the same two Warriors to gather up Kirk, but McCoy looked from side to side, trying to see who had 'spoken'. As the Warriors half-carried, half-led Kirk away, Anat urged them to follow.

/ Attend to Zhames, McCoy. I will send whatever you need. Nyota, go with them, you are injured too. We are safe for the moment. Now, I must wait and see if we have been successful. /

Uhura needed no urging; she was going wherever they took Kirk. She realized that it probably was not only McCoy who had a wild look about him.

A path cleared for them to the sanctuary behind the door. Uhura's brain processed seeing Ramsha'ka take command of the scene, shouting out orders as if he had done it forever. Glancing over her shoulder, she was able to catch a glimpse of Chota'di as Anat hovered over him, all pretext of them merely being Dowager and General gone. He still sat on the bloody floor, a dazed and confused look on his face.

The deafening noise in the Audience Hall was shut out as the Warriors left them in privacy. McCoy had decided against laying Kirk down in favor of making him straddle a lounger that would afford better access to his shoulder. Handing his tricorder to Uhura, McCoy used a laser scalpel to slice through Kirk's jacket and peel it away, exposing the nasty gash underneath.

"Lieutenant, hold the tricorder where I can see its readings. I need both of my hands free right now." McCoy ordered quietly, his emotions now under control and focused on Kirk's injury.

Taking the unit in her left hand and using what was left of her makeshift pressure bandage to cushion her right hand, she answered automatically. "Yes sir." Glad for something to do.

McCoy quickly cauterized the wound, stopping the bleeding. He retracted the flap of tissue, exposing the full nature of the injury. Uhura could see the dull white of bone once McCoy cleansed the wound.

"Damn it, Bones! Try to leave some of it attached." Kirk ground out through gritted teeth--his first words to McCoy.

"Hurts, huh? Good--maybe it'll teach you a lesson about throwing yourself in harm's way." McCoy barked back sharply, but he glanced at Uhura and she saw relief in his eyes. "Now shut up so I can see how badly you're injured."

Using the feinberger and tricorder in unison, McCoy did a thorough examination of Kirk's shoulder. Uhura studied the tricorder screen, trying to understand all of the data. One of the images caught her attention over the others--a superimposed outline of Kirk with an assortment of white lines, dots and squiggles which Uhura finally realized was a catalog of Kirk's previous injuries. The abundance of markings caused her to let out a tiny gasp, immediately drawing McCoy's attention to her, then at what she had seen. His eyes tightened as a scowl momentarily flashed across his face before he returned to his ministrations.

In that instant, Uhura knew McCoy remembered each and every one of these injuries--probably better than Kirk did. He had been the one charged with patching Kirk back together time after time. She contrasted the difference between the wildness of his arrival to the controlled, but almost angry presence before her now. Angry with Kirk for risking his life, angry with him for once again making them scared his luck had run out.

How could McCoy stand it? How could he tolerate mission after mission with Kirk always in the thick of it? Uhura knew she had always been concerned when they had gone on landing parties before, but this new, stomach-wrenching fear of what she had nearly lost was unbearable. Had she been a millisecond slower, she would be staring at his corpse right now. How many little deaths had McCoy endured because he was not just Kirk's doctor, but also his friend? Was that why he accompanied him on so many landing parties when she knew he hated the transporter so much? To be there just in case? In case Jim put himself in danger and Spock could not protect him--that McCoy might once again cheat death?

Uhura's blood ran cold. How could she endure the same torture? She could not bully herself onto landing parties as McCoy often did and monitoring from afar now seemed woefully inadequate. How had a few nights in his arms changed her perspective so much? How could she allow herself to care this much for him and still remain quiet? Allowing him to command in the only way he knew how--from the front lines?

"Okay Jim, that's about all I can do down here. I need to get you into surgery to repair that muscle and nerve damage." McCoy announced, sounding much calmer and relaxed as he sealed the last of the dermal bandage. He scanned over the rest of Kirk's back with the feinberger and seemed to notice for the first time the telltale scratch marks Uhura had fretted over the day before. A raised eyebrow and a quick glance drew Nyota out of her internal anguish, forcing her to pull herself together and brazen it out. Looking confused would not work with McCoy, not when the man had practically wrote her a doctor's excuse for the opportunity to inflict them. The doctor merely shrugged as he protoplased the marks away--banishing evidence from future medical eyes.

"Surgery will have to wait until tomorrow, Doctor. I have a mission to complete." Kirk said as he pushed himself up off the makeshift treatment table. At that moment the door opened and Pahzj and Nesz bustled in, carrying new outfits for Kirk and Uhura.

"Now just a minute, Jim--" McCoy started to challenge.

"Not now, Doctor." Kirk glanced at the Potakai and warned McCoy off. "Surgery can wait till tomorrow. Please treat Uhura's hand--that's not just my blood she's wearing."

"We're not finished with this topic, Captain." McCoy ground out before shifting his focus to Uhura. At once his demeanor changed, the gentle McCoy came forward, dismissing Kirk from his thoughts for the moment.

"All right, Lieutenant," he purred in his best Southern drawl, "Let's take a look at what that nasty blade did to your hand."

Gently, he reached out and pulled her hand toward him, away from the protection of where she had tucked it against her chest. He carefully peeled the bloody bandage away, silently agreeing with Kirk that there was more than his blood here. Removing the last of the bandage revealed a long gash along the outward edge of Uhura's hand. Again, the wound was deep, but clean. McCoy ran his feinberger over her injury, assessing to be sure she had not sustained any nerve injury. Luckily, the cut only involved soft tissue and could be protoplased close in a few minutes. He lased it closed, and once satisfied with his work, picked the feinberger back up and ran it over the rest of her.

"What are you doing, Doctor? He only cut me there." Uhura stammered, brought out of her reverie by his continued attention.

"I know that, Lieutenant, but the Captain isn't the only one suffering from shock. Your injury, plus the after-effects of the attack have played havoc with your system. Let me give you something to make it easier." McCoy dialed up a hypospray and pressed it against her neck.

"I don't think you have anything in your medikit that can make it easier." She answered before thinking, glancing back at McCoy before catching herself and blushing at her inadvertent confession.

McCoy looked hard at her, following her gaze as she watched the elder Potakai male help Kirk put on a new outfit.

"No, probably not, Nyota." He spoke softly, sympathy in his eyes. "The pain that can be caused by caring for someone is outside of my skill--but at least you can feel something again." He offered in commiseration as he squeezed her good hand tenderly.

"Oh, yes…I can definitely feel again." She whispered to herself.

"I take it you intend to stay down here with him?" McCoy asked cautiously, having already given up that he could convince Kirk to return to the ship. But that did not mean she had to stay--he wasn't sure if staying was such a good thing for her either.

"Of course, Doctor. Somebody has to look out for him." She said with a bright, if forced, smile.

McCoy just nodded his head, recognizing that Jim had gained another soul in his unwanted collection of people who realized he often needed protection instead of always providing it.

"Fine, I'm leaving him in your hands. He lost a lot of blood and his whole left arm has little strength or feeling. Try to keep him quiet. Don't let him do anything too strenuous." The last remark was accompanied by a pointed look that caused Nyota's cheeks to fairly glow.

"Yes, sir." She answered mildly.

"Good. Now, I think this young lady has a new outfit for you too." McCoy nodded to where Nesz waited patiently against the wall, allowing them what privacy she could. "I'll leave you in her undoubtedly capable hands and go waste my time lecturing Jim. I don't see what's so all-fired important about attending a ball…It'd serve him right if I decided he didn't need anything for pain…" McCoy muttered crabbily as he left to rejoin Kirk.

Nesz came forward and began to strip off her blood-soaked gown. Modesty wasn't an option in their small sanctuary, but there really wasn't anyone to be modest in front of anymore.

"My Lady, that was a brave thing you did, fighting a Warrior--a berserker no less." Nesz whispered in quiet awe.

"Thank you, Nesz, for saying so, but I was just doing my duty." Uhura answered humbly, feeling uncomfortable with the praise.

"A Federation Consort is also a bodyguard? We did not know this. We were surprised when you did not bring your own Warriors--now we understand." Nesz seemed to accept Uhura could be both.

"Well, in this case, I guess you could call me that. As a Starfleet officer, I'm trained to perform in many capacities." Trying to get the conversation off of her, Nyota asked, "So what is going on out there? Why did that General try to kill Anata'ka?"

"Oh?" Nesz's eyes lit up with excitement. "They are claiming a new caste has been born!" She whispered gleefully.

"The crèche mothers and priests are very angry with Anata'ka for doing this--there is much shouting between them. We heard many things--most of it not for our ears."

"A new caste?" Nyota asked. "How did she do that?"

"I only know what Pahzj told me, and he overheard it as he attended Anata'ka right after the attack. He says she imprinted Chota'di with a part of the Ambassador's mente. That Chota'di is now clan leader of the Seka caste--those who desire to explore. Many are saying that others were converted at the same time--from all the castes!"

Uhura's mind raced at this news. Kirk was involved? He *knew* all along? "And the berserker sensed this was what Anata'ka was doing?"

"It would seem so. Sometimes a sensitive appears in the other castes. It made him quite mad, so the other Generals have let him have the honor of leading the Tikanga Whakamomori. They took him to the courtyard immediately after you were brought here. Hundreds of thousands chose to join him, but for now most have decided to stay and continue to serve their leaders or join the Sekas."

All the pieces suddenly clicked into place and Uhura could see nothing but red. She had known there was some plan going on between Anat and Kirk, but never imagined anything as remotely far-ranging as a new caste creation. That was Anat's plan all along. That was why she asked the Federation to send Kirk. That was why she needed a private audience with him--to gain his assistance and his silence. Was her motivation to save millions of warriors or just whatever she needed to do to save the one Warrior she cared about?

How dangerous it was to play God and revamp a whole society, regardless of the reason. How infuriating to be left out in the cold, not considered trustworthy enough for inclusion. Had Anat's aborted merging between Ramsha and Kirk merely been a subterfuge to draw the berserker out? To allow her an opportunity to stun the masses and substitute Chota'di for Ramsha? How desperate was she to risk both her grandson’s and Kirk's lives? Was her sole reason for joining the Federation just a ruse to get them to send Kirk?

Fury was building in her head, causing her temples to pulse with the hard beat of her heart. She had to get a grip on herself--this was neither the time nor the place to go off on a tirade.

"My Lady, are you well?" Nesz asked nervously at Uhura's continued silence.

"What?…Yes, I'm fine, Nesz. I was just considering what you had told me. Do you think the creation of a new caste is a good thing?"

"I'm sure I don't know the real answer to that question, My Lady, but as a Menage, I can say that the saving of lives is always a good thing. If a new caste could do that, would it not be an improvement?"

"One truly hopes so." Nyota prayed fervently. Being actively involved or not, there was bound to be a major investigation into this situation.

"Nesz, why are the crèche mothers and priests angry with Anat?" Uhura asked, trying a different tactic.

"Because she broke tradition and our way of life. It is their job to teach the young our culture and traditions. Anata'ka has caused chaos in all the households and castes. Some bondings appear to have been severed by the change, when one mate realigned and the other did not. They say the foundation of our culture has been shaken."

"Do you think they are right?"

"I am still Menage. Nothing has changed for me. If a house is built on good stone, can it not withstand a storm? If a few roof tiles fly off, did they not need replacing anyway? I'm sure there are greater issues to consider, but those are for the elders to contemplate."

Uhura turned just in time to see McCoy beam out and braced herself as Kirk walked toward her. Pahzj motioned to Nesz he was ready to leave and she quickly gathered up the discarded clothes and excused herself from their company.

"So, did Nesz catch you up with what's happening out there?" Kirk asked distractedly as he tried to shift his jacket and found that only one of his shoulders would cooperate.

"About the new caste? Yes, she did. She said it saved many lives, but that hundreds of thousands of the Warriors still committed suicide." Uhura knew that jab was unfair, but she had to vent a fraction of her anger or she would burst.

"Yes, Spock confirmed that too." Kirk added sadly before offering news she had not known. "Anat's stun even affected him on the Enterprise, but M'Benga told McCoy he checked out okay."

Somehow knowing Anat had stunned Spock made Nyota angrier. Were there any limits to whom she would risk? Did Jim not feel used?

Still struggling with his jacket, Kirk stopped for a moment, looking hard at Uhura.

"Are you really okay? McCoy said you wanted to stay down here, but you don't have to if you'd really rather go back."

Exasperated with his futile efforts, Uhura reached up and adjusted the set of Kirk's jacket across his shoulders, allowing the action to bide her a few seconds before replying.

"No, I'm fine--really. I guess it's just the letdown after that adrenaline rush. I want to stay and finish this mission with you." She tried to focus on the mission, letting the fact that many lives were saved diffuse some of the anger she felt at him and at Anata'ka.

His eyes softened and he clasped her hands as they rested against his chest. "Good, and I want to thank you for saving my life."

"I thought it was about time I returned the favor." She quipped, not allowing him the closeness he sought, pushing him away emotionally becoming her means of defense. Uhura caught the little flinch as he reacted to her distancing. His attempt to reach out to her only made it worse; it was too little, too late.

"Should we go out and show the others that you're indestructible?" She tossed over her shoulder as she moved toward the door, knowing it was insubordinate but unable to curb her tongue.

He was there before she could activate it, his good hand covering the control.

"Penda, what's wrong? Why are you being this way?" He asked in a hurt and confused tone.

"Just leave it for now. We've got a Coronation Ball to attend." She hissed at him, angry at his barring of her escape. Uhura saw his eyes glitter dangerously before he spoke.

"Why, yes we do, Lieutenant."

His soft and quiet tone, as well as the use of her title put her on notice that she would have much to answer for later, but for now he agreed they needed to be seen. He pulled back from the door, allowing her to finish waving it open. Uhura strode through it quickly, but he followed on her heels, his nearness for once intimidating instead of comforting.

***

TBC

~ID'ic

Healing Touch Chapter 12 K/U [NC-17]

2010-03-28T10:48:00.002-05:00

Image courtesy of the 'net and very little of me.

Disclaimer: Paramount owns Star Trek. I only own my fantasies.

Feedback: Yes please, here or by email.

Beta: Sincere gratitude goes to: Nyotava, Bandicca, Zapp and Trekskitten for such wonderful betaing! Each of them brought fresh insight and used their unique expertise to make this story a reality.

Summary: A sequel to "My Faith in You," addressing Uhura's recovery from a brutal attack and the depths of Kirk's commitment to keep her in his world.

***

The Humans soon found out that the goi serving ritual was a way for the exalted to show their obligation to the commoner. Ramsha'ka had conscripted Kirk as the highest-ranking Federation representative and introduced him to another Potakai custom. Tradition called for the meat to be cut from the choicest areas and served to the guests in reverse rank order. Tiny tots, with their Menage attendants, lined up to be served by the man who, tomorrow, would be their supreme ruler. Kirk glanced between Uhura and the enormous beast that still hung over the hot coals before surrendering gracefully.

Uhura watched as Ramsha'ka and Kirk served the hundreds of Potakai calmly gathered at the huge roasting pit. The goi turned out be an animal similar to a large bison--at least in size and shape. Uhura as of yet had no idea as to its taste. She, like the other exalted ones, had to wait until everyone else was served before they had the opportunity to taste the aromatic meat. She sat patiently next to Anata'ka and Lilu'ka, watching Kirk slice goi under Ramsha'ka's quiet direction as he captured the tender cuts on platter after platter. Each guest was served with all the formality one would expect at a state dinner. Even the little ones, too young to understand the honor being conferred upon them, recognized the solemnity of the ceremony and responded in kind.

Grinning to herself, Uhura watched as Dah and Tel approached the head of the serving line, their still-short crests stiffly erect in anticipation of their moment in the torchlight. Since his own crest was still braided for protection, Ramsha gave a slight nod to the youngsters as they took their serving of goi from the platter he offered them. They dropped their crests in a show of respect for the towering Potakai. They even stopped and fluttered their crests in deference to Kirk who was standing in the background. It was something none of the others had done. Uhura saw Anata'ka nod in approval out of the corner of her eye.

Noticing the look, Anata'ka leaned over and offered in a hopeful tone. "I see such potential in those two. They fear nothing, but even at this young age, show a poise and understanding of things outside their realm. They are destined to be Aristocrats and Ramsha would do well to choose them as his children."

"They are darling, Your Highness, and quite remarkable. I think they would be fine children for Ramsha'ka and Lilu'ka." Nyota offered with an acknowledging glance to the woman seated on the other side of her.

"When the time comes, we would be very honored to continue their training and education." Lilu offered somewhat diffidently and returned her attention to Ramsha'ka.

Uhura was taken aback by the matter-of-factness of Lilu's reaction to the adorable children.

/ Ah, Nyota, this shocks you? / Anat asked in Uhura's mind, the curiosity evident even without speech.

/ I guess it does, Anata'ka. Humans are naturally attracted to children. They bring out our protective and nurturing instincts. That doesn't seem to be the case here. / Uhura offered in bewilderment.

/ Oh it is, Nyota, but only in Menage. They devote their whole lives to nurturing--children, the sick, the elderly, the lonely. It fulfills their soul to care for others. We Aristocrats see children as someone to mold for later leadership. Our love is triggered by finding the one who best represents our ideals. It is a different love than the Menage, but just as strong. /

Uhura was quiet for a moment, trying to process this Potakai version of love, something quite alien to her idea of affection.

/ It is far different than Human love--at least from what I have observed between you and Zhames. /

At Uhura's shocked glance, the Dowager gave a knowing smile and continued.

/ I see many levels of emotions between you and each is considered a form of love by one or both of you: guardian, nurturer, student, teacher, friend and yes--even lover. /

If anyone could have seen in the darkness, they would have noticed the deep blush that burned Uhura's cheeks.

/ I experience through your thoughts what friendship and admiration mean. It is alien to me but one I can compare to the Aristocrat's need to balance power with someone, or a quiet lust for something we lack when trying to find that balance. I know it isn't the same, but it is the closest approximation I can make from my own culture. /

Uhura looked at Kirk, studying him as he quietly continued cutting the meat off the spit. They were nearly through with the children and were now beginning to feed the elder Menage in attendance. Power. Was she attracted to the man or the power he held?

/ Nyota, it is both of course. / Anat answered her thought--unmindful or uncaring that she was raiding Uhura's mind.

/ Zhames is a powerful presence in his own right. His titles make him more so. But I know his power frightens you just as much as it attracts you. The drive and ambition he possesses make you feel lacking and nervous, as if you think he expects you to exhibit them just as strongly. /

/ Wouldn't he? / Uhura challenged back in her thoughts. It was the question that blocked her from ever seeing more than a professional future between them. His intensity pushing her past her limits--wanting and expecting her to achieve more than she was ready to handle right now.

/ Yes, in time he would. He would expect you to keep up with him, or even outpace him, and that is what you fear. You are not afraid of challenge, but you don't like to lead. You prefer to solve the problems and handle the details--something he esteems--but it does not engage his passions. /

/ I know all of this, so why can't I get him out of my thoughts? / Ny asked in near desperation. Hearing her worst fears confirmed by one who 'knew' the truth was just as painful as ramming a dagger through her heart.

/ Nyota, you only have to look at him to see he has much to offer as a mate. His looks, charm, intelligence, sense of humor and integrity act as magnets. As one of his officers, you have pledged your loyalty to him as well. Do not berate yourself because your mind and body respond to what is before them. Yet, understand and accept there are limitations, and always will be, to your relationship. It is not fair, but if you are both true to your natures, it is the reality of your lives. /

Reality, there, Anata'ka had said it. The reality of their lives - to dance and circle around each other, to accept the attraction and the futility of happiness if pursued. She would have to leave his side, his safety, and go out on her own in order to grow and mature--to become his equal. Did she have the determination to do such a thing? Did she want to become someone more than who she was right now just to be considered worthy? It sounded harsh to think it, but she now understood that he would never see her as his equal--personally or professionally--as long as she stayed in his shadow. But was that so bad? Being in his shadow meant she was in his inner circle and protection, something she would dearly miss if she left on a quest to become somebody else.

Strange, Ny thought, to be willing to accept a lesser role in the life of one you cherished, but at the same time, indignant that he could not see all your facets unless you distanced yourself from him. Strange, to be willing to accept the periphery of his affections rather than play hostess to them all, to run from the idea of being his equal because you feared the total loss of your real identity. Those anomalies plagued her thoughts and played havoc with her emotions.

She had achieved the goal she had set for herself: to be out amongst the stars. Now, at twenty-eight, she was already the head of her own department and a staple of the alpha bridge crew. Promotion risked all of that - the stars, Enterprise, her position on the bridge - any bridge. Unless she transferred to Command track, something she had no desire to do, a promotion within her field of expertise would likely send her to the Academy as a teacher or to the fringes of space at a forward listening post.

None of those options appealed to her at this point in her life. No, she had already attained her best destiny and was determined to stay where she was. There were many ways to measure a career and Uhura chose fulfillment over rank. That her desires might suffer from such a choice, she had no doubt, but the risk of losing all her dreams for the possibility of claiming the best one was too great.

Anat listened silently as Nyota argued with herself. Witnesses came forward - the risks, the rewards, the pain and the pleasures - all testifying before the judge in her brain. Her heart presented evidence from the past three months and the last three nights, urging in favor of love. Logic countered that her love would be unrequited once the mission was over and she would risk everything if she could not accept that fact. It offered that Kirk had no room in his life for a flesh and blood woman so long as he had Enterprise. Deliberations were arduous, the jury nearly declared a mistrial before the verdict was announced: career and duty.

Uhura felt a consoling squeeze of her hand, the darkness hiding the sympathetic gesture from the Dowager. There were no words in her head, but soothing warmth washed over her whole body, offering much more support than the physical touch.

"So it is our turn to be served." Anat spoke out loud, bursting the bubble that had sequestered the Human and the Potakai from everyone else.

"I hope Ramsha picked a big enough goi. I don't relish chewing on hooves or tail." She grumbled quietly but Uhura knew it was just a part of her act.

"Grandmother, you have nothing to worry about." Lilu spoke softly as they neared the front of the line. "Ramsha would slay another goi before serving you such."

Uhura could see Anat roll her eyes at the earnestness of Lilu's speech by the light from the torches staked out near the pit. The expression clearly implying that sarcasm was such a wasted effort with this one. However, once they stood in front of Ramsha'ka to receive their portion, all flippancy from the dowager was gone. They accepted the proffered meat in humbleness and dignity.

Nyota stole a glance at Kirk as she accepted her gift from Ramsha and was graced with a small bow of his head and the hint of a smile. Again, a soothing warmth infused her, but this time it was her own reaction to him rather than an outside presence. Their connection was broken as a slight murmur began from the back of the crowd, bodies parted, revealing the entrance of the three ancient crèche mothers.

"Old, upstaging dumas" was muttered by Anata'ka, who received a severe stare from Ramsha'ka.

The elders kept their slow pace as they struggled through the sand to the fire pit, leaning heavily on their walking sticks. Kirk and Ramsha'ka quickly sliced another platter of meat from the greatly reduced carcass. Ramsha took great care and was very formal as he served the eldest mother - reverse rank was ignored here. Nyota did not know if their sudden appearance at the end of the ceremony was per protocol or a declaration of power. She gathered from Anat's reaction that it was the latter. As the eldest mother accepted her serving, she turned her eyes on Kirk, the glow from the torch casting him in warm golds and stark shadow. Kirk held her stare but bent low at the waist, giving her a true, if somewhat impertinent bow.

"Humph, young Human, make yourself useful and help this old mother to a seat near the chee." She demanded imperiously, but more as a tired old woman than an angry one.

Kirk stepped up smartly and relieved her of the plate, allowing the old woman to take hold of his arm. Between his solid support and her cane, she made good time to a near bench. A cupful of chee was already there waiting for her. Once he had her comfortable, the old woman bade him to go and escort the other mothers over to her roost. He obliged under her quiet scrutiny as well as Anat's.

Uhura could feel the tension in the air between the two women as they locked eyes for a moment when Kirk passed between them. The stare was broken as Kirk escorted the second woman back to a seat near the first mother. Again, he ensured she was settled and provided for before he left to attend to the last of the three. As the last woman was seated next to her sisters, a few words were exchanged between Kirk and the women. Uhura could not hear the exchange, but she was sure the Dowager was eavesdropping, as the subtle relaxation of Anat's posture seemed to indicate she was relieved and satisfied with what was said.

Only when the last mother was served and seated did Ramsha'ka and Kirk serve themselves and take seats in the sand near Lilu'ka and Uhura. Nyota was sure it had been torture to Kirk to stand over the fire pit for so long; the heat was bad, but to stand so near the delicious meat and not even sample it was worse. He gave her a tired grin and a wink before tearing into the meat on his plate, eagerly accepting the mug of chee that someone passed over to him.

Once the ceremony was finished, the mood of the crowd relaxed. Anyone still hungry was encouraged to go and serve themselves all they wanted. In short order the carcass was clean and hoisted away from the firepit, leaving glowing coals that were quickly stoked with new wood to a roaring fire. The heat did wonders to counter the chill breeze blowing in from the sea. The entire crèche soon gathered in a circle around the newfound warmth. Pitchers of chee were passed through the crowd. No one was particularly in charge, but everyone was assured of enough to drink. The heady brew tingled the throat as one swallowed. Now, they were all warmed on the inside as well as without.

The entertainment started out as dancing by the youngsters, with everyone laughing at their antics. As the night waned on, the children relinquished the spotlight to a much more mesmerizing dance conducted by a company of Menage females. Their graceful dancing was accompanied by seductive borunjee music that touched deep into the primitive centers of both Potakai and Human. It suddenly became clear to Ny what 'comfort to the lonely' meant when Anata'ka had used those words to describe a function of Menage fulfillment.

The dancing remained relatively chaste until the crèche mothers retired for the night, attendants and sleepy children in tow. However, once freed from those constraints, the movements became more sensual and explicit. There was no touching, not that it mattered, their gyrations were enough to enflame any passions--Human or Potakai. Several couples stole off into the night, no longer able to resist their own desires.

Nyota felt her own pulse quicken as she watched the nubile bodies dance in the fire's glow. The music aroused their brains instead of relaxing them as it had the time before. A quick glance toward Kirk found him lost in the erotic performance, his eyes tracked each dancer as she swayed past him. Attempting to combat the carnal feelings that threatened to engulf her, Nyota was having even more difficulty reconciling the open display of sexuality before them. Considering the strict taboos Potakai placed on public displays of affection, this entertainment seemed so contradictory.

/ The crèche is not public, Nyota / Anat murmured in her mind. Kirk sat up straighter and glanced her way, obviously hearing the Dowager as well.

/ We are all family here and tonight we celebrate the circle of life with our crèche mates. We have provided for, shown honor and laughed with everyone. All these things you have witnessed, but the core of the crèche is love--it strengthens the crèche--renews it. Tonight's dance is a celebration of Ramsha's crèche and its renewal. These Menage are not lewd, they are just enticements for the lonely. Loneliness can crush the crèche--smother it. Tonight you will celebrate and experience the renewal with us. /

Anata'ka became quiet as a few more couples wandered off into the night. Uhura was more than willing to leave if Kirk gave any encouragement, but two dancers recaptured his attention as they gyrated across the sand and over each other. Their movements were wanton and in sync with the pulsing beat of the music as they rubbed bodies.

A more subtle movement caught Uhura's eye as she saw Chota'di come in from the dark and sit down next to Anat--near but not touching her. She observed as he casually watched the dancers, but his eyes kept returning to Anat's face. The Dowager was wrapped up in the dancing before her and appeared not to be aware of his glances.

Eventually he looked across the fire pit and noticed Nyota staring at him. The firelight shone off the Warrior's taut body and started a new fire within Uhura. She attempted to give him a friendly smile, but was afraid there was more lust than friendship wrapped in it. He tried to return the smile, but there was too much sadness in his expression for it to be a success.

Uhura realized tonight might be his last night on Potakai. Tomorrow would bring a change of power and the end of his duties as he saw it. Bitterness and rage flushed over her for a moment at such a loss of life and talent. She knew he did not feel the same way but she could not help how she felt. He had told her all he felt was regret for leaving Anat alone once again.

Nyota caught his eye again and gestured downward slightly with her head. She reached out and discreetly, but in full view of the Warrior, captured Kirk's hand in her own. She turned and smiled into Kirk's hungry eyes as he returned a gentle squeeze of her hand, stroking her palm suggestively with his thumb. Pretending to watch the dancers, Nyota turned back to the fire and Chota's gaze. She motioned with her head that now it was his turn; he seemed shocked and sat back for a moment. Uhura continued to stare at his spot in the shadow until he once again sat forward. She willed him to act--to take this last opportunity to experience what he had only dreamed of.

Slowly, as if hypnotized, she watched as he inched his hand along the ground and stopped in the shadows. A slight jerk by Anat was all the evidence Uhura needed to know the Warrior had captured the hand of his love. The couple was utterly still, their eyes staring at the dancers, but focused on nothing. They sat there, transfixed for several minutes before Anat stirred, bringing both hands into sight.

"Grandson, my bones grow weary sitting on the hard sand. I think I will retire for the night." Anata'ka announced in her normal cantankerous manner. Chota'di quickly stood to assist her up and escort her back to the palace.

"Yes, Grandmother." Ramsha'ka remarked dreamily. He had problems drawing his attention away from the dancers to focus on the elder woman.

"Do you need my assistance back to the Palace, Grandmother?" He finally managed to ask.

"No-" She bit back quickly, then on a more even note continued "Chota'di got me here and I see no reason why he can not get me back."

Now standing, she gestured farewell to her grandchildren and the humans.

"Goodnight, young ones. Do not tarry too long--leave enough of the night for the dancers to celebrate with the Warriors." She chided suggestively and so carefully drawing attention away from the fact that she was leaving with her own handsome Warrior.

Anat glanced once at them all in turn, but Uhura felt her eyes linger when she looked at her. Chota'di kept his distance until she turned to leave, then he took Anat's arm and helped her into the darkness. Nyota smiled to herself, thinking that perhaps tonight the general would achieve one more victory.

***

They excused themselves from Ramsha'ka and Lilu'ka in short order once Anat left the celebration. Uhura was thankful for the warmth of their apartments; the bikini and sarong hardly kept her warm once they left the protective circle of the bonfire. During the walk back she tucked in close to Kirk, stealing his body heat and stoking fires the dancers had ignited with their dancing.

The apartment was quiet and the lights were turned down low. Nyota was unsure if the staff had retired for the night or had yet to return from their own celebration. In any case, she was thankful for the privacy; it allowed her to keep her focus on the man in front of her. As they reached the bedroom, Kirk turned and captured her in his arms, pulling her against him and kissing her hungrily. Nyota returned the kiss just as passionately, pulling his head down and bruising her lips against his. She felt his hands roam down her back and possessively cup her buttocks, grinding her against his obvious erection. Kirk finally pulled away, allowing Nyota to catch her breath.

"I've waited all night to do that." Jim whispered against her temple as he continued to stroke her body.

"I've waited all night for you to do it too." She laughed seductively in his ear.

"But, you know, I think you need a shower. Wood smoke and roast goi is not the best cologne you could wear." Uhura chided playfully as she pushed his cover up shirt off his shoulders.

"No? I thought I might take some back to the ship with me." He grinned down at her.

"No, that wouldn't be wise." Nyota replied against his lips as she slipped her hands into his trunks and finished undressing him.

She stepped back to admire his form and realized he was swinging her bikini top nonchalantly around one finger and her sarong wrap was just so much crumpled cloth on the floor.

"I hate to shower alone and since you're practically undressed, why don't you join me?" He asked with that little boy grin turned on high.

"Oh, I don't know--but I do seem to be ready for it." Ny stared evilly at him for his sleight-of-hand tactic before showing a worried smile. "I'm sure I have sand in places I'd rather not think about."

"Well, we can't have that. Let’s go do something about it." Kirk's smile turned from playful to incorrigible.

Uhura wished her bathroom on Enterprise was a tenth of the size of theirs on Potakai. The wall sconce lights were turned down low in this room as well. The overhead lights were embedded in the top of the waterfall that functioned as the shower, their small, but intense beams caused the fringe droplets to glow like fireflies. The water was warm and pounding in the center of the fall, tapering off to a gentle mist on either edge. The haze reminded her of a San Francisco fog--only warmer.

Nyota quickly peeled her bikini bottom off and joined Jim under the falls. She admired his body as he stood in the center of the deluge, water sluicing over his broad shoulders and washing any sand from his skin. Uhura stepped in closer to him, allowing the warm thunder to strip her skin clean of any clinging quartz as well.

Eventually, if only to catch their breath, they moved to a gentler spot in the flow. She wanted to leap on him, crucify herself on the erection she was desperately trying to ignore. Instead, Uhura scooped a handful of scented soap and began to run her hands across Jim's body. She caressed him, inch by inch, covering him in rich foam. She lathered his hair, turning it white before beginning her southward trek. Picking up what passed for a sponge on Potakai, Nyota rubbed it sensually over his soaped chest, then moved around to his back so she could lather it as well. She touched every part of his body with either the sponge or her hands, working from his chest and back, downward to his firm cheeks and muscled thighs. As she finally touched his firm organ, a strangled moan pushed past his lips and a slight shudder racked his solid frame. Uhura gave her full attention to his pulsing member, sliding her soapy hands firmly along his shaft only to follow with the wicked softness of the sponge. She wrapped the sponge around him, pulling it forward and back in slow, deliberate motion.

With a growl, Kirk reached out and grabbed Uhura, lifting her with negligible effort. He carried her through the roar of the falls to brace her against the slanting wall at the back of the cascade. Finally provoked past reason, he took possession of her mouth with his as he pushed his way into her. Ny moaned deep into Jim's mouth as he thrust all the way in, wrapping her legs around his waist, greedily trying to take all of him. His fingers found her and began their insistent stroking as he slammed into her. She was already so near the edge that his mere touch was enough to push her over. She cried out and bucked hard against him, grinding down on the spear pinning her against the wall. Her climax triggered Kirk's and he shook violently as he came hard within her. Still inside her, he pulled back, looking a little sheepish as she smiled up at him through bruised lips.

"That's quite a sponge bath technique you have, Penda."

"The better to clean you with, My Dear." She purred up to him.

Jim looked around and found the sponge, carefully sliding down, taking Uhura with him to retrieve it from the floor. He stood back up and wedged her against the wall again. He took the sponge, still sudsy from his bathing, and began to caress her body with its softness. He stroked her neck and breasts as he worked down to her flat belly. Wringing the soap out of it into a mound of white bubbles, he ran his fingers through her curly patch. Re-excited by his actions, he pulled away from her and then gently pushed back in. Uhura held him against her with her legs, burying him and holding him deep inside her. She leaned in from her spot against the wall, pulling him down to meet her halfway, taking his lower lip between her teeth and claiming it as hers. He moaned into her mouth and picked her up again. Her legs still locked around his waist, he moved to the edge of the deep pool, walking down the ramp until they were neck-deep in the water.

The water was warmer here; steam rose lightly off its surface. Kirk walked her back against the pool edge and sat her on the sub-surface ledge he found there. The floor of the pool slanted and he found just the right spot where she was the perfect height for him.

Sponge forgotten, his hands moved over her body, enflaming it with new passion. He kneaded her breasts, leaning down to suckle and tug her nipples till she let out a moan. He pushed in, holding her in place as he slid his hands down her back and pulled her against him. Ny lost herself in the sensations, grinding herself against him and whispering for him to finish her off. Jim massaged between her legs as he rocked against her, sending Penda over the waterfall again. She held him close as spasm after spasm shook her body.

The steaming water became too much, the heat more than she could take after the blaze that had just engulfed her. She pushed him away and walked Jim out of the water. Taking a handful of large towels, Ny draped them across the floor and pushed Kirk down onto his back atop the makeshift bed. She quickly followed, straddling his hips and settling herself back upon him. It felt so perfect, so where he belonged. Ny rocked herself on him, leaning down and kissing him hard, bullying her tongue into his mouth and challenging his to a duel.

Suddenly, she found herself on her back and he was over her, buried deep and thrusting hard. Ny pulled her legs up and locked them around his back. He slammed into her forcefully and she felt herself ready to go again. As he pressed in deeply once more, she squeezed her legs and held him there, crying out in renewed ecstasy. A few thrusts more and Jim joined her, his own moans muffled by her lips.

Ny lay there in the oblivion of afterglow, thought and reason only slowly finding their way back into her consciousness. She ignored the tiny voice telling her this man wasn't hers --would never be. He had made love to her like they belonged to each other. Her body responded to him like a trusted lover, his strength and aggressive passion exciting it instead of dredging up memories of her last rough handling. She refused to hear the whisper reminding her their mission was nearly over, that they must return to their lives as Captain and Lieutenant. Instead, she clung to him, trying to keep some part of him forever.

Jim lifted himself from her sudden embrace to look into her eyes, concern evident in his own. She knew he saw the tears well up in hers, but tried to put on a brave face by giving him a tremulous smile. He gave her a sad one in return before leaning down and gently kissing the tears away. Silently, he stood and pulled Ny up with him, walking her to the gentle side of the waterfall and allowing it to rinse them clean once more. Ny let him do with her as he willed, not able to resist his tenderness. He wrapped her in a towel and took her to their bed, settling with her amongst the warm covers. He curled up against her back, pulling Ny tightly against him, letting his hand cup her breast. Captured by his comforting embrace, she felt a soft kiss against her hair as she cried herself to sleep.

***

The morning found Uhura awakening to Jim's worried eyes. A soft smile turned the corners of his mouth up as he realized she was looking back at him. A tentative hand reached up to caress her cheek, unsure if it would be welcomed after her meltdown the night before.

It was welcome--that was the problem--but it would not be offered so lovingly once they were back on Enterprise--that was the problem. That she had just resolved yesterday to pursue her own idea of a career over love and had seen it melt under his kiss--that was the problem. That she knew all of this before he had ever touched her--that was the problem. Ny closed her eyes and leaned into his touch, grateful for the closeness and ashamed of her need for it at the same time.

"Good morning, Penda. Can we talk about last night?" Jim asked tenderly, but Nyota was under no illusion that she could deny him.

"If we must," was as much as she dared challenge. The balance between personal and professional had become confused, twisted, merged. She could no longer tell the difference--that was the problem.

"I think we need to; we're almost out of time--" his voice cracked with emotion. He stopped to compose himself before continuing.

"A lot has happened during these last three months. Some of it I hope you forget. Some of it I hope you remember forever, but we need to come to an understanding of what we are to each other."

Nyota held her breath, waiting for the worst of it.

"Last night I made love to a beautiful, passionate woman, a woman who was unafraid of my demands, a woman who had no problem taking what she wanted. I think this is the woman you were before Bengali--the woman we both want back on the Bridge. But she's not the woman I can allow myself to know away from the Conn. Is that why you cried last night?"

His eyes bored into Uhura's, trapping her with no chance of escape. Her heart was in her throat and she could not catch her breath. She forced herself to sit up, grabbing a pillow and hugging it to her chest, rocking herself back and forth in an instinctively comforting move.

"Yes--no--I don't know--" she finally blurted out, struggling to breathe but refusing to cry. No, he would not see those tears again.

"I love how you love me and I'm going to miss it. I came down here frightened that my career was gone--that my whole life was gone. The mere idea of a man touching me sent me into hysteria--but you changed all of that. Your touch healed me and gave me back everything I thought I'd lost."

Mustering the courage to look at him, she asked, "How could I not want you? How can I let that go?"

Kirk's eyes were laced with pain; he had no answers for her. Sitting up to face her, he murmured, "I'm sorry." His hand moved toward Ny's face, but he caught himself before touching her. A kindness of a sort--to withhold what she could no longer have.

A soft tapping at the door brought them both to attention. Nyota lay back against her pillows, draping the sheets over her nakedness. She composed her face into a tight smile as she heard Kirk beckon the staff to enter. Her heart was in a clench, but she refused to let it be visible. It seemed as if she had no choice but to become a master of this mask.

***

The morning was a rush of activity. Pahzj and Nesz flitted about, busily organizing wardrobe for the day, chatting about yesterday's celebration and today's ceremony as the humans ate breakfast in relative silence. Kirk stepped out on the balcony to check in with Spock, seeking a modicum of privacy from their enthusiasm. Late in the morning the Protocol Minister came by to discuss their roles in the ceremony.

"-- We plan to beam the ceremony throughout the Potakai system, Mister Ambassador." Minister Garan'ka continued in his rush of the details.

"I'm sure it will be available to your ship and the Federation at large if they choose to watch. This is, after all, our first coronation in over three hundred years. There will be a processional from the Torga grounds to the Audience Hall proper, so those unable to attend can still feel a part of it and pay respect to their liege lords. The Households will participate in the processional, led by their lord and marching into the Hall in reverse rank order. Of course, this is where you and Lady Uhura come in; you will lead in the Torga palace household--"

"Excuse me?" Kirk, glancing at Uhura, cut in, looking confused at what he had just heard the minister say.

"You and Lady Uhura will lead in the Torga Household." Seeing the confusion still evident on both humans' faces, he chose to elaborate, thinking perhaps that he was the one misinformed.

"Ambassador, you did participate in the Goi serving ceremony last night?" At Kirk's nod, but lack of understanding, the minister continued.

"I'm sorry, I would have thought all of the significance of that would have been explained to you before the ritual. Please allow me to clarify. By sharing in the ritual, you become a member of Ramsha'ka's crèche - and as highest ranking member, his de facto heir - if something should befall him before naming a true heir."

Kirk's eyebrows climbed high in shock and Nyota gasped in surprise.

"However, as it relates to today's ceremony, you become his surrogate in the processional. He, along with Lady Lilu'ka and the Dowager, will await your entry and then your ascent to the dais as members of the actual ceremony."

At Kirk's continued quiet and look of nonplus, the minister stuttered.

"Ambassador, I assure you it is the highest honor of respect Ramsha'ka has bestowed upon you."

"I'm sure it is Minister Garan'ka--we just had no idea of this tremendous honor we've been given. It would have been more fortuitous to discuss with my superiors prior to accepting such esteem." Kirk answered delicately, all the while thinking what the Hell had he gotten himself into now? Heir? Heir? He could just hear the lecture about staying objective and removed from a host planet -- much less the spin coming out of his detractor's mouths now -- no worries, if captaining became too difficult, he could just retire to run his star empire…right.

Was Anat so worried about the possibility of assassination that she felt compelled to paint him as a better target? That was the real issue here - whom would she rather sacrifice to protect her world? Ramsha'ka, whom Anat expected to lead the people into her vision of the future, or Kirk, whom she expected to give them the future? He had his answer.

"I'm truly sorry, Ambassador. I'm sure it never crossed Ramsha'ka's mind that you might need to clear such an honor with the Federation. The title is a personal choice, one bestowed upon you as a person, not the role of Federation Ambassador. It is a matter of pono tomau; Potakai do not question such bonds. They form, they exist, they are accepted."

"Yes, Minister, I understand. It is just unexpected. Thank you for the education." Kirk answered graciously, but Uhura could tell he was far from happy with this change of events.

Truth be told, neither was she. Why hadn't Anat or Ramsha told them of this last night? Were they afraid Jim would have declined? Could he have? Would he have? The risk of something happening to him had just escalated one-hundredfold and it was all she could do to stay focused on the briefing of what was to come - at least, what they *knew* was to come.

***

TBC

~ID'ic

Healing Touch Chapter 11 K/U [NC-17]

2010-03-23T19:46:00.004-05:00

Image mostly courtesy of the net.....

Disclaimer: Paramount owns Star Trek. I only own my fantasies.

Beta: Sincere gratitude goes to: Nyotava, Bandicca, Zapp and Trekskitten for such wonderful betaing! Each of them brought fresh insight and used their unique expertise to make this story a reality.

Summary: A sequel to "My Faith in You," addressing Uhura's recovery from a brutal attack and the depths of Kirk's commitment to keep her in his world.

~~~~

Uhura stood up and assisted Anata'ka over the uneven footing of the warm sand. She was amazed at how delicately boned the taller woman seemed. As they neared the other pavilion, Anata'ka cautioned Uhura.

"Be warned, Child, we enter the realm of the crèche mothers. They are caretakers of the future. Their behavior is ancient and formal. They have never met an outsider. I warned them I would be bringing you, but their reaction is anyone's guess. The crèche is the most protected and sanctified place to a Potakai, you should consider yourself honored to enter their presence."

Uhura quickly processed just how much trust Anata'ka was placing in her hands. Access to the inner realm of the Potakai was not a trifle offering. If she did something to offend the matriarchs, she not only embarrassed herself personally, but the Federation and Anata'ka as well.

"I am honored, Your Highness. I trust you will warn me if I should be about to falter?"

Anata'ka eyed Uhura speculatively before speaking. "Perhaps, Child. Sometimes one must earn the lesson to learn the lesson. It would be wise of you to remain silent unless the crèche mothers address you personally."

They entered the pavilion through gauze panels. The crèche mother tent was the only one that had chosen to keep some semblance of walls in place; preferring the meager protection of sheer panels from the sand and sun to the extra breeze.

Uhura immediately saw their reasoning. Pallet after pallet lined the soft sand, nestling a Potakai infant. At nearly every infant, a young Menage was seated by its side. A couple of the infants were awake, but quietly nursing at the breast of their caretaker.

Anata'ka remained silent, but bowed her head in respect to the younger women. Several flicked their shorn crests in quiet acknowledgement of the Empress. Some few cast a glance at Uhura, but gave no sign of greeting, instead returning to their tasks.

Anata'ka navigated the pathway between the pallets and the interior gauze panels that sectioned off the pavilion into other rooms, making her way to the innermost section. Uhura kept pace, staying just behind the elder Potakai as they passed several sections, each containing a different age-group of children. Most were taking a mid-afternoon nap, but a few raised their heads from their pallet and looked in quiet awe at the strange alien in their midst. Uhura could not help but give them a friendly smile in return. At the last gauze partition, Anata'ka stopped and spoke in a dialect Uhura did not understand.

"Wi lante do enium, Anat."

"Anat, sig do bi." Came the soft reply from the other side.

Anata'ka glanced at Uhura and motioned for her to follow. The gauze panels were thicker at this section and it took Uhura's eyes a moment to adjust to the dimness. Seated against the far wall, on a bed of cushions, were three wizened, ancient Potakai women. Their crests were practically non-existent and what feathers they had left were stark white. Yet, for however aged their bodies looked at first glance, Uhura quickly saw the keen intelligence in their eyes.

The eyes had locked on her and were now intently measuring every facet about her they could see. Uhura held her ground but dropped her eyes to the sand in a show of respect. She in no way wanted to assume a threatening or challenging manner. Having apparently passed her first test, the first matriarch dismissed Uhura from her attention and spoke to Anata'ka.

"Kes sul niv ceno sak, Anat?" She asked in a challenging tone.

"Doh chi kes masuruni, Kep 'dado." Anata'ka replied solemnly, with no translation for Uhura to follow. She gracefully sank to the cushions before them and motioned for Uhura to do the same.

They sat there for nearly an hour, speaking quietly and formally between themselves. Uhura was never acknowledged or included in any of the conversation. A servant brought tea and Anata'ka served Uhura before taking a cup for herself, thus ensuring she was included. Uhura waited patiently, listening to the ancient dialect, trying to piece together their meanings from the root sounds of their common everyday dialect.

It was difficult, but she gathered they were concerned with the passing of power to Ramsha'ka--not that he was unworthy, just that he was so young to assume power. There was also a major concern for joining the Federation. Again, not that they disagreed with the idea, but were more concerned as to its impact on their normal way of life.

At this point Anata'ka reminded them sarcastically that if three hundred years of war had not destroyed their way of life, then she hardly thought that a few humans could do so. At the rebuke, Uhura again felt under scrutiny from the old women, as if they were making that very determination now.

A steady cry had gone on for several minutes before turning into a loud wail in the outer chamber. A young Menage entered their room unannounced and brought the crying infant to the center-seated mother. The old woman took the infant as one with years of practice and began to try and soothe the distraught baby. The tender patting and cooing in its ear did not appear to please the infant. Instead, it yelled all the louder and started biting on its fingers. Uhura's heart went out to the baby and its distress. Finally, the matriarch sitting farthest away from Uhura spoke in a dialect Uhura could understand.

"Stranger, it is said your species bear and nurture only their own young. How do the masses benefit from such selfish behavior?"

Shocked by the direct challenge, Uhura looked at Anata'ka, but the dowager merely looked back at her, awaiting her reply.

"We do bear and raise our own young, but we are not cold to the children of others. If someone dies, or isn't capable of raising their own child, there are many who are honored to adopt them and raise them as their own. Because of that willingness, I challenge you to reconsider the claim of selfishness and consider us generous and responsive for the greater good."

The crèche mother arched her brow at the tone of Uhura's response, but did not seem offended.

"Then soothe this little one if you can. His wails are growing tiresome." The dominant mother spoke and sent the baby over to Uhura.

Uhura knew this was obviously a test to see if Humans really did have compassion for the children of others. She knew the crèche mothers could tell the baby was teething and was fretful because his gums were hurting. Uhura took the wailing baby in her arms and quickly put him up to her shoulder. She cooed in his ear and gently patted him on the back, trying to gentle the screaming infant. When that did not work, she turned to the attendant and asked for a piece of ice wrapped in a napkin.

The attendant glanced at the crèche mothers for approval before leaving to run the errand. She quickly came back and handed Uhura a small bowl of ice and a soft napkin. Uhura laid the baby across her knees in order to free up her hands and continued to jostle the baby in a steady rhythm. Grabbing a chunk of ice, she hastily tied it into a corner of the napkin and sat the baby back up, offering the cold tidbit to the wailing child.

The baby did not recognize that relief was as close as the numbing cold of the ice pacifier and continued to wail. Uhura placed the wrapped ice against the baby's gums and held it there over his protestations. Eventually, the baby suckled and calmed--only sobbing out of tiredness instead of pain. Uhura laid the infant down in the cradle of her lap and kept the steady bounce going as he teethed on the cold napkin. Soon his eyes closed and he drifted off to sleep, exhausted from all the crying. Seeing the infant in sound slumber, the attendant scooped the baby from Uhura's lap and took him back to his pallet.

"How many children have you borne?" The nearer matriarch asked in approval of Uhura's success.

"None, Crèche Mother." Uhura bowed and answered quietly.

"Then how many have you raised that belonged to others?" She asked, apparently confused that her question was misunderstood.

"Again, none, Crèche Mother. My junior sibling is twelve years younger than me and I helped my mother take care of her."

"Anat, she will do. The Human proved she knew how to calm an infant more than a Citizen or an Aristocrat would know with so little exposure. We are pleased."

"That is good." Anata'ka acknowledged bluntly. "Ramsha'ka shall need your support to keep the households in order until all truly accept him. Our association with the Federation gives the Potakai an outward direction for our energies instead of inward."

The Empress glanced at Uhura and motioned for assistance in rising from the cushion. Uhura stood and gently assisted the old woman up from the sand. Regaining her regal posture, Anata'ka concluded their meeting.

"We thank you for the audience. Remember the goi and chee for tonight's meal. I will make sure plenty is sent to the pavilion if you choose to stay inside."

"Thank you, Your Highness. As always, the crèche is here to serve." The center mother answered humbly but was far from it. "We thank you for the generosity and may perhaps venture forth at dusk."

Uhura watched the two matriarchs dance around each other, each searching for leverage over the other in an attempt to establish complete dominance.

"Hai, Mother, Ramsha will enjoy his visits with you." Anata'ka laughed heartily.

The crèche mother smiled serenely. "I look forward to testing his mettle, Daughter."

Uhura was graced with a cursory, but respectful nod as they backed out of the room and made their escape. Once back out into the sunshine, Anata'ka let out a long sigh.

"Poor Ramsha'ka. He will take quite a beating from that one if he chooses to visit her alone. I must tell Lilu she should attend him. She understands them much better than he ever will."

She looked over at Uhura, eyeing her keenly for a minute.

"How did you know how to quiet the baby? I had no idea what was wrong with him." The elder Potakai confided.

Uhura smiled brightly at the genuine awe given to her by Anata'ka.

"Humans tend to each other’s children all the time, Your Highness. Teenagers baby-sit as a way of earning credits. And we are always conscripted into tending to our little brothers, sisters, nieces and nephews. Nearly everybody has some exposure to babies."

"Humph" the Dowager sniffed at hearing such magic was child's play.

"So it would seem. I prefer my exposure to be after they have passed such a needy phase."

Uhura laughed openly this time. "I know many parents who would agree with you."

Somewhat mollified by the humor, Anata'ka led them back to their own pavilion to gather up Lilu'ka. Glancing out to sea and watching as the three basc dutifully began their journey toward the sanctuary, Uhura smiled at the message she could guess Anata'ka was broadcasting.

Lilu in tow, they marched down to the water's edge, awaiting the arrival of the first basc. Ramsha'ka glided in on the back of a young bull and encouraged him into the shallows, exposing much of his body as he wedged into the sand.

"Oh! Are they beaching themselves? Will they be able to free themselves?" Uhura asked as she saw how close the giants came to the shore.

"Oh, don't worry, Nyota." Lilu answered sagely, she was thrilled to be the knowledgeable one for once. "They can come all the way on the beach and still get back into the water if they're really trying. And we have lots of muscle here if they get stuck."

Content to accept there was nothing to worry about, Uhura looked out to see Chota'di coming through the cleft while Kirk's basc was close behind. It really would be a tight fit for the head matriarch to get through the cleft too. As soon as the young ones saw the first basc enter the sanctuary, a mad dash was made toward the water. No sign of fear for something so massive was in evidence.

Uhura kept one eye on the little ones scrambling onto the young basc and the other one on Kirk's journey into the sanctuary. The water churned madly as the cow forced her way through the channel and Kirk hung on. Finally, seeking a wider path, the cow submerged, taking Kirk with her as she dove. Uhura was about to send out an alarm when both Kirk and the cow appeared on the surface, through the channel and much closer than before.

The largest basc glided into the beach and settled herself on the soft sand. A slew of children stopped in their assault on Chota'di's basc and aimed for the bigger creature instead. Uhura waded into the warm water, caught up in the exodus. She caught Kirk's eye and laughed at the 'kid in the candy store' look she got in return. She noted a few more bruises and scrapes, but could tell he was having the time of his life. As she neared the side of the huge beast, he reached down to pull her up onto its back.

"So, you ready to try basc riding?" He challenged playfully.

"I think I could do a decent job." She tossed back teasingly, all the while trying to restrain herself from touching him in front of all the children.

Young Potakai, most appearing to be between the ages of four and six, were quickly overrunning them. One of the older ones plopped into Kirk's lap and studied him intently.

"Who are you? Is this your basc? Where do you come from? Can we go for a ride?"

Kirk grinned down at the inquisitive youngster and answered him.

"My name is Jim. No, this basc belongs to Ramsha'ka. My home planet is called Earth in the Federation. And I think we will be swimming about the sanctuary as soon as everyone gets onboard."

"I want to go out there and ride the big waves." The little one challenged, unconcerned with the alien he had just met.

"What's your name?" Uhura asked the bold little fellow.

"His name is Dah and my name is Tel." Said an equally bold little girl as she pulled her way into Uhura's lap. The youngster had a short gold and indigo crest, along with yellow eyes and two missing front teeth.

"Nobody asked you your name." Dah informed the young upstager.

"Dah, that’s not a nice thing to say." Kirk gently chided the young man.

"Tel always has to get into whatever I do. She's just a baby and I get tired of her." He sighed in dramatic fashion.

Kirk tried to hide a grin, for Dah could barely be a year older than Tel.

"I understand, but as the older one, you must set an example and show her how to behave."

"Fine. Can we go riding now?" Dah asked, losing interest in the etiquette lesson.

"In just a little bit. Let's wait on the others." Kirk responded to his new friend.

He and Uhura watched as a swarm of children and their attendants climbed aboard. Uhura noted Anata'ka was sitting next to Chota'di and Lilu had even managed to climb aboard with Ramsha'ka. A more thorough look around those on their basc spied Nesz and Pahzj holding two youngsters apiece. Both Menage were grinning ear to ear, as excited as the children to be on the huge beast.

At some unknown signal, each behemoth began to inch their way backward into the deeper waters. Once back enough to regain buoyancy, they began a slow and measured journey around the sanctuary, somehow knowing the necessity of being gentle. Dah grew offended at the leisurely pace.

"Can't you make her go faster? This is for babies." He declared indignantly.

"I'm afraid not. She thinks this is best and I won't argue with her. We are carrying quite a few babies." Kirk commiserated with his self-appointed charge.

"I'm so tired of babies" He replied in disgust.

"You're only a little older than the rest of us." Uhura's ward chided.

Uhura grinned at Kirk. It was apparent that sibling rivalry was another universal constant. Dah gave her a look of contempt and nothing more. He sported all of his front teeth, but his crest was all gold and so were his eyes. Rolling those same eyes, he gave Kirk a look of long-suffering, to which the Captain was hard-pressed to keep his own look solemn.

"Sometimes the lessons take longer to sink in than you want. Be strong, you can endure it." Kirk smiled sympathetically at the youngster.

"Let me see if I can talk her into throttling it up a notch or two." He relented.

Uhura watched as Kirk shut his eyes for a second. Immediately, she heard a deep rumble emanate from the creature they were riding and a hard push from her tail sent them readily ahead of the other basc. A great cheer went up from the riders of the old cow as she pushed them ahead. She wasn't going that much faster, but to them she might as well have been going warp six.

Tel beamed at Uhura as they took the lead. "I like to win." She confided in guileless simplicity.

"Don't we all." Uhura grinned back.

After innumerable laps around the sanctuary, Ramsha beached his basc back on the shore. Much to the chagrin of everyone on Kirk's basc, the old cow eased herself onto the soft sand as well. Ramsha'ka yelled to Kirk that someone else would escort the basc back out of the cleft and back to their pen.

As Kirk slid off the big beast, he stared into her gentle eye and scratched above the bony ridge. She gave another deep rumble and flipped a fin at him, splashing him with water. Uhura waited as he bid farewell to yet another girlfriend.

"Just be glad I'm not the jealous type." She teased as they finally walked onto dry land.

"It would have never worked out." Kirk deadpanned. "I prefer daintier women."

Uhura rolled her eyes and just kept walking.

Once well onto the beach, Kirk laid down in the warm sand and just rested. However, he soon found himself conquered by Dah and Tel, both sitting on him as they had the old basc.

"So, what did you say you were?" Dah asked, deciding the alien he was sitting on now deserved some attention.

"I'm a Human, from the Federation." He answered with a grin.

"Why do you have feathers on your arms and legs?" Tel challenged as she rubbed the soft, blond hairs on his arm.

"And why is your crest so short? Are you Menage?" Dah continued the inquisition.

"I have 'hair' on my arms and legs because that is normal for a human. We come from a planet with much greater temperature extremes than Potakai. The hair helps keep us warm. I have a short crest because it is the custom of my people to keep it so. If I were to let it grow, it would eventually touch the ground just as the Dowager's crest does.

Not put off by his straight answers, Dah continued. "Why is your skin gold and hers is brown?"

"Because that is normal for humans. We come in many different skin colors, eye colors and hair colors--just as Potakai do." Kirk answered simply.

"Good, I like gold. You both look like the sun." Tel acknowledged with the innocence of childhood. "You are the morning sun and she is the same color as dusk."

"Well, we take that as a great compliment." Kirk grinned sweetly at the little Potakai.

"I think I will marry you when I grow up." She announced matter-of-factly as she began to fill a bucket with sand.

All of the elder Potakai who had been listening quietly to their conversation laughed at her innocent remark. Uhura glanced at him, as if to say 'there you go again.' Kirk gave her a challenging look back before answering the youngster.

"I would be honored to marry you when you're all grown up." He replied with ambassadorial solemnity.

"Good. Can I bury you in the sand?"

Everyone laughed at her segue into another topic, apparently quite over her betrothal.

Undone at the hands of a five-year-old, Kirk merely sighed. "Yes, Tel, please do. I think that's where I need to be right about now...."

***

The afternoon had continued on, from the burying in the sand to building sand fortresses, to swimming lessons in the shallow surf. Tel and Dah had attached themselves firmly to the two humans. It was very obvious they preferred them to the company of the others in their party. The feeling was mutual; the Aristocrats tolerated the children, but did not coddle them.

Later, during a frenzied beachball game, the youngsters sat near Anata'ka as she acted as only a 'slightly' biased field judge. Kirk and Ramsha'ka competed against Chota'di, Lilu'ka, Nyota and the young Aristocrat named Mek'ka. The unbalanced teaming hardly mattered, as it soon became obvious that Ramsha hated to lose just as badly as Kirk did. Neither showed any mercy. Not that Chota expected any, as a Warrior he had fought for every point, spiking and battling back as if the planet depended upon it. He seemed to particularly like to direct his counter-attacks at Kirk. Uhura thought perhaps it was in deference to his loyalty of Ramsha, but it quickly turned into a battle of wills couched in the guise of play. However, in the end, it was no contest and Chota'di gracefully accepted his defeat.

After the game, Ramsha and Lilu left to check on how the roasting of the goi was coming along. Anat returned to her pavilion to sit in the glow of the afternoon sun and patiently wait for Chota to check in with Command. She and Uhura talked quietly as Kirk was seduced into sleep by the droning of the waves. His head was propped against Uhura's lower legs. She knew he would have preferred to rest it in her lap but Potakai sensibilities would not have understood such an open display of closeness. While they were an open and extroverted species by nature, the telepathic bonds between mates made physical displays of affection unnecessary. Therefore, they were considered more intimate and private. Even mild displays were considered risqué and wanton, not something done in polite company. That was why there was such ritual involved in courtly society. It was ironic to the humans that talking about deeply intimate behavior was not considered lewd to the Potakai, but a friendly kiss was.

The sun was definitely on its decline when Kirk sat up from where he had collapsed in sleep after the game had ended.

"So Zhames, you choose to join us again?" Anat remarked with only mild sarcasm.

"Why yes, Your Highness, I do. I think the General exacted more of a victory than he knows." Kirk quipped as he stretched out the kinks in his back and took assessment of the burns on his elbows and knees. Sand was not soft when you were sliding across it in pursuit of a ball.

"I'm sure he would be delighted in your misery, Zhames." She grinned in open acknowledgement of Chota'di's resentment of Kirk.

"Of that, I have no doubt." Kirk replied ruefully; he would much prefer to be on Chota's good side. His eyes turned toward the sea and a soft sigh escaped his lips.

"All in good time, Zhames. Is that not the phrase?" She answered his unspoken thought. She paused for a moment, cocking her head and watching Kirk look longingly at the sea before she spoke again.

"This is an excellent beach to walk on." She began with much casualness. "There is nothing but sand between here and the point. Why don't you and Nyota make good use of the time before the goi is ready? It is tradition not to eat until full dark."

Uhura watched as Kirk turned and locked eyes with Anat's at the mention of the beach. Her phrasing seemed to mean something to him. Tenseness suddenly appeared in his posture, only to slowly drain away; he seemed to reflect upon her suggestion.

"A considered thought, Your Highness." He replied noncommittally.

It was obvious there was more meaning to their exchange, but Uhura had no idea what it was. For a tiny moment Kirk's eyes showed a bottomless depth. The look, so fleeting, was layered with a vortex of emotions, but loneliness, vulnerability and resignation were the most prominent.

"Penda, would you care to join me for a walk on the beach?" A wistful, but melancholy, smile played across his lips as he spoke.

Again, Uhura sensed there was more to the question than what he asked, but it did not matter, she would gladly follow where he would lead. "I would love to, Jim." She smiled back tenderly.

At her words, his smile deepened and lit up his eyes. Uhura felt a click in her head as her world came into excruciating focus. As if, for a split second, they were back in the meld again with no boundaries between their thoughts, then it was gone, leaving her dizzy and overwhelmed. Uhura knew Kirk felt it too, his hand tremored like hers did when he helped her rise from the sand. He locked his fingers with hers and pulled her hand against his thigh, steadying them between their bodies.

Anat's turquoise eyes shone eerily as she watched them. Uhura was unable to decide if they were lit from the settling sun or some inner light. It unnerved her to think she might be the catalyst of their connection, but even more so to think Anat felt the intimacy that passed between them.

"Go enjoy yourselves, Children. The sunlight does not last forever." Anat admonished, motioning for them to be gone. She now appeared as any well-meaning matchmaker, gone was the supernatural persona Uhura had felt just a moment before.

To their distancing backs, she called out. "Remember to be back in time for the goi--it is very important to Ramsha that you share in the ritual serving ceremony."

Kirk waved a hand that he understood her reminder and kept going toward the surf. At the sight of the roused humans heading for the sea, two little Potakai broke from the cover of their pavilion and ran toward them. They caught up with them as the humans turned to begin their trek along the edge of the surf. Several sets of Menage eyes followed the youngster's charge and froze in indecision of what to do. Children were the wards of the Menage and humans were not Menage. Furthermore, humans did not raise children communally and a stab of fear flew through their caretakers as the little ones approached the human male. Regardless of the fact that they had interacted all day with the humans, it was a totally different thing for the children to be left alone in their company.

"Wait! Wait for us!" Dah yelled as he outdistanced Tel in his dash to catch the humans.

Uhura turned around just in time to brace her body as he attached himself to her leg. She laughed at his enthusiasm, squatting down to hug him and wait for the shorter legged Tel. Glancing back at the alerted Menage, she looked down at the youth in her non-existent lap.

"Did you get permission to come with us Dah?" She asked cautiously, looking at Kirk and motioning with her eyes at their many witnesses.

At that moment, Tel caught up and launched herself at Kirk. He caught her in mid-leap and settled her against his hip.

"We want to go with you." She panted breathlessly.

"That would be nice, but we must be sure your mothers have given their approval." Jim spoke softly into the adoring face of his 'future bride'.

Uhura saw an attendant come out of the crèche tent and bow low toward them. As one, the Menage on alert sat down and seemed to dismiss them from their thoughts.

"I would say we just got their blessings." Uhura remarked dryly. She let go of the breath she had been holding, amazed at the acquiescence of the crèche mothers.

Grinning toothlessly, Tel scrambled out of Kirk's arms and joined Dah as he ran ahead of them, searching the beach for gifts from the sea. Kirk grinned at Uhura, shrugging his shoulders at the additions to their party. Uhura laughed as he took her hand and began their journey once again.

They walked in silence for a long while; each caught up in their own thoughts and content with the quiet. Occasionally, one or both of the children would run up to them to share a find. Uhura quickly had to tie up an edge of her sarong into a makeshift tote to collect all of the 'treasures' they suddenly just could not live without.

Tel fell down once and scraped her knee; no blood was drawn, but she cried and demanded to be carried. Uhura watched as Kirk diligently attended to her injury and lifted her effortlessly into his arms before again taking Uhura's hand and continuing their walk. Tel nestled herself against him and settled in for a good cry. Kirk shushed her tears and spoke soothing words to his ward, not the least bit annoyed with his over-dramatic burden.

Uhura smiled at what a tender picture they made. So often Kirk appeared intense and demanding, hardly the gentle father-figure she saw before her now. He caught her smiling at him and she could tell by his blush that he realized what had provoked her grin.

"And I know how to change diapers too." He whispered defensively, as if daring her to say anything.

Uhura laughed, but kept any remarks to herself. Tel soon decided she was well and wiggled until Kirk stooped to let her down to join Dah once again. As he stood back up, he sighed in his own melodramatic way.

"They grow up so fast." He grinned at her, but Uhura sensed his performance was a way of hiding a real regret. She locked her eyes with his, squeezing his hand in consolation of both the real and pretended sadness. He broke contact first; turning to watch the ocean for several paces before looking back at her, his eyes once again shuttered from her scrutiny.

Trying to lighten the mood, Uhura teased, "I believe your injuries deserve more pampering than Tel's."

Kirk smiled and did a quick double take at the various bumps, bruises and scrapes he had accumulated during the basc riding and beachball game. Watching the kids run farther up the beach, he grinned slyly as he asked. "Which one do you want to kiss and make better?"

"Do I have to pick just one?" She asked innocently, then continued in a sympathetic tone. "I sure hope Anata'ka knows how to restore a bruised ego. You and Ramsha'ka certainly trounced Chota'di's during the game."

Kirk glanced at her in surprise, his grin gone.

"Uhura, I didn't play that rough for my own sake. You understand that, don't you?" He continued without waiting for her response. It seemed very important to him that she understood his point of view.

"This society does not understand equality as we know it. Anata'ka has made the first attempt to ally her people in a relationship as equals with the Federation. I doubt even Anat truly understands what an equal is--she's never had one. They have a hierarchy in all their relationships. It's a scary thought, something they nearly can't comprehend. Only Anat and Ramsha have accepted me without reservation.

To the people here, I *am* the Federation. I can't afford to show weakness or our alliance is doomed before it even gets started. Every governor and council member has challenged me at some point or other. I've had to stand my ground without trying to appear dominant. I must make them see we can co-exist without a challenge for power.

Chota'di sees me as a threat because I don't kowtow to Anata'ka. To him, if I'm not a vassal, I'm an enemy. Rationally, he understands I mean her no harm, but emotionally and instinctively, I raise his hackles. I'm up against thousands of years of culture and biology."

"Yes, you're right." She stammered, caught off guard by his seriousness and his perception of the Potakai.

"It's just that I have been welcomed with open arms by everyone--even Chota'di. I had no idea of how you were being treated during your meetings. I knew there was some friction between you and the General, but I thought it was more because he sensed you as another Warrior and not an Aristocrat."

"I'm sure that plays into it as well." Kirk nodded, agreeing with her assessment. "Perhaps more so for him than the others. To the Potakai, you are my consort, therefore, under my protection. They perceive your loyalty is to me and would never confront you directly. Potakai loyalties are realigned when a ruler is toppled by the emergence of a stronger leader."

He spoke earnestly to her, making sure she understood the consequences. "That is why Anata'ka is so worried about the ceremony tomorrow. Will the governors remain loyal to Ramsha'ka once he ascends the throne? Or will their membership into the Federation be too much for them to accept? They have hardly adjusted to peace within their system and now they must learn to accept hundreds of cultures as equal to their own. Ramsha has a difficult dilemma--he must be strong enough to capture the governors’ loyalty, but open enough to accept strangers as equals at the same time. I don't envy him that task."

Uhura felt petty and small for not seeing what was now so painfully obvious. She had been too wrapped up in her own woes to see the bigger picture. She had not been an asset to this mission, but instead, a burden, distracting Kirk from what he must do and becoming another problem for him to deal with rather than supporting him. How could she have been so blind? Why had he not spoken to her sooner? She cringed inwardly at what he must really think of her as an officer. She stopped and pulled her hand away from his.

"I'm sorry, Captain." It was all she could think to say. She was ashamed and mortified for being found so lacking.

"Sorry for what?" Kirk asked in confusion. Why had she reverted to his title? Why did she look as if she was about to be sick?

"I was totally oblivious to that aspect of our mission, sir. Instead, I was more concerned about my personal situation." She answered smartly, relying on training to get her through the humiliation.

Realization dawned in Kirk's eyes. He glanced away to where the kids were, contenting himself they were safe and engrossed before taking Uhura by the shoulders, making her look squarely at him.

"Penda, I am not disappointed in your mission performance. You have nothing to apologize for. If I were unhappy, I would have sent you back to the ship."

"I have not provided the support you needed. Instead, you have been supporting me." She countered.

He cupped her chin, seizing her eyes with his so she could tell he was sincere. "Penda, I'd like to think we have supported each other." He began tenderly. "I won't deny that whatever this is between us hasn't caused me some problems, but I hardly blame you for them. The meld was necessary and its consequences are no one's fault. We just have to struggle through it until we can breathe again."

He stared hard into her eyes, looking for a sign he had made his point.

"I would not expect you to be aware of things you weren't exposed to. Your mission is as my consort--not to become involved in the politics of the situation. If anything, I'm at fault for not sharing with you earlier. Instead, out of habit, I confided in Spock. For that, I am sorry."

Uhura looked up at him in shock. He was apologizing to her? Again, he was taking on her burden--and her guilt--not allowing her to shoulder her own mistakes.

"Sir…Jim," She began, demanding that he hear her. "You do not owe me any apology. Mister Spock is your Exec and should be apprised of all situations. As you stated, I'm the consort. My role is to act as such and provide you with mission support. I promise I will do better with the latter."

Kirk smiled, and under the watchful eyes of the Potakai sentries, he kissed her softly on the brow. To Uhura, it was absolution.

Trying to contain all the emotions that were warring within her, Uhura came back to the present. She looked at the dipping sun and asked, "Don't you think we should be heading back?" They were nearly to the point Anat had spoken of anyway.

"Sure, I'm looking forward to this roasted goi. What about you?" He grinned impishly, allowing her to establish some needed distance.

"Definitely." She grinned back.

Kirk whistled to get the children's attention and motioned for them to start back. Dah stomped his foot and pointed at how close they were to the end. Kirk grinned and motioned with his hand for the youth to run there and back. He understood it was accomplishing the goal that meant something, not actually playing at the physical destination. Tel took off in a hurry to do it too, her little legs pumping for all they were worth. Whatever Dah did she considered it her mission to do as well.

The humans watched them run, making sure they were safe on their solo journey. Uhura glanced at Kirk, grinning that he had given in so easily. He caught her smirking at him.

"What? It makes them happy and costs us just a few minutes. I think it's worth it." He felt the need to explain.

"Oh, I understand completely." She deadpanned. In no way was she going to point out the similarities between Dah's stomping defiance and Kirk's temper when he was thwarted by Starfleet authority. Funny, she thought, they usually gave in too.

As dusk descended, Tel begged to be carried back down the beach, her little legs exhausted from their trek. Kirk swung her up to sit astride his shoulders. For a moment she perked at the novelty of her new height, but fatigue and the lull of his steady walk soon caused her to slump. Kirk held her hands, keeping her securely in place and continued on, unbothered by the child's cheek resting on his head.

Dah's own walk slowed, but he refused to be carried. Instead he pressed on, insisting he lead their way back to the pavilions. As he spotted the bonfire, his pace quickened, eager to be back with the others.

***

TBC

~ID'ic

Healing Touch Chapter 10 K/U [NC-17]

2010-03-20T21:47:00.003-05:00

Image courtesy of the 'net.

Disclaimer: Paramount owns Star Trek. I only own my fantasies.

Beta: Sincere gratitude goes to: Nyotava, Bandicca, Zapp and Trekskitten for such wonderful betaing! Each of them brought fresh insight and used their unique expertise to make this story a reality.

Summary: A sequel to "My Faith in You," addressing Uhura's recovery from a brutal attack and the depths of Kirk's commitment to keep her in his world.

***

Uhura awoke to the soft patter of raindrops falling outside in the twilight of early dawn. She could tell Kirk was no longer in bed and saw him standing just inside the balcony doors. He was staring off into the distance, seemingly focused on the soft white caps forming on the choppy waves far out to sea. Dressed only in tousled hair and silk loungers, his posture projected a certain tenseness about it - like something caged - ready to bolt at the first opportunity.

It was something she had expected sooner or later; eventually his conscience would catch up with his actions. Last night had been more about the attraction they felt for each other and less about her emotional recovery. Now, in the gray mist of dawn, all his old reasons for keeping his distance would begin to whisper to him. Soon the whisper would become a steady chant, too hard for him to ignore. Uhura knew the conflict he struggled with; she had felt his desire for her and his shame for it in the meld.

Now it would be her turn to offer comfort; she could not allow him to feel guilty for being human. Sometimes he was harder on himself for having feelings than Spock was, never allowing himself a reprieve for being less than some higher ideal. In the past she had admired the inner drive that pushed him to perform apparent miracles. But that was before she knew what it cost him emotionally, keeping himself distanced and detached from everyone save Spock and McCoy, trying to be a deity to the crew.

She eased out of bed, slipped on her robe and padded up silently behind him. Sliding her arms around his waist, she leaned in and pressed her body against his back, hugging him tightly. When he did not respond, she let him go and slipped around in front of him, trying to assess the emotion in his eyes.

"Good morning, Jim." She smiled tentatively, reaching up to place a soft kiss on his lips.

"Good morning, Penda." He answered with a gentle smile, but Uhura noted it did not quite reach his eyes.

He turned her around and made her face the sea, stepping up and wrapping her in his arms.

"This is harder than I expected." He sighed against her temple as he pulled her back against his chest.

Uhura closed her eyes tightly for a moment in an effort to keep her composure. This was the reality she had been expecting, not the fantasy she had lived for the past three nights.

"Is it really? Or did you just ignore all the warnings going off in your head in an attempt to try and save me one last time?"

Kirk spun her back to look at him, his eyes capturing hers and holding them with their pain.

"Maybe some of both. I knew the risk I was taking, but I considered you worth it--I still do."

As he spoke, Uhura's eyes lost focus, the tears threatened to spill down her cheeks.

"But waking up next to you… holding you in my arms and knowing it can't last…is tearing me up inside. I want you and need you beside me, but the cost is…steep."

"If it's too steep, I can go. I'll pass my pysch exam now, of that I have no doubt, but I can still transfer to another ship." She meant what she said, but the offer ripped out her heart. She wanted to stay with him more than ever now, but not at this cost. If he could not look at her without seeing regret, she did not want to be there.

"No--I don't want you to go. I'll--we'll learn to deal with this. It's just going to take us awhile to adjust, to learn how to put the genie back in the bottle."

The tears finally won and spilled down Uhura's cheeks. Jim held her tightly for a long time before letting her go. Wiping the tears from her face, she looked at him and tried to find her voice.

"So, where do we go from here? I can move back into my room and we can keep it strictly professional for the rest of the mission."

Cupping her chin, he asked tenderly, "Is that what you want?"

"No, of course not, but won't it just make it harder to let this go on?"

"Maybe, but I had someone tell me once I should consider this a gift from the Gods. Stay with me and let me do just that." The pain was still in his eyes, but a cajoling smile struggled to break through.

"We have two days before we beam back aboard, for some species, that's a lifetime. Let's not waste anymore of what we have left dwelling on the future. Regrets can come later."

Too overcome to speak, Uhura nodded her head in agreement as he leaned down and captured her lips with his. Scooping her up in his arms, he walked back to their bed and lay her down, untying her robe in one fluid motion. He spent the next several hours making her appreciate their decision. Regrets would come and they would hit hard, but that was too far into the future to concern Uhura. The only thing that held her attention now was the beautiful man making love to her over and over.

***

The sun was shining brightly when Uhura awoke again. It was late morning and she did not care--they had no formal duties today--Potakai protocol called for a day of quiet and contemplation before the Ascendancy Ceremony. However, the growling of her stomach did remind her that they had probably missed breakfast. Jim was still in bed beside her, slowly opening his eyes and stretching as she sat up in bed. She leaned over and kissed him softly on the lips, no energy left for anything more passionate. He smiled a lazy smile back at her and looked out toward the balcony.

"Well, at least it stopped raining." He grinned.

"Yes, so it has." She smiled back. At least his melancholy had fled with the rain; the sated smile on his face was a far cry from the remorseful look he had worn to greet the dawn. "Do you think Pahzj forgot we're still here? He's usually chasing us out of bed well before now."

A soft knock on the door sent Uhura scrambling for cover. She slid back down in the bed and pulled the covers up to her neck. Kirk laughed at her sudden modesty and sat up in bed, though she noticed he had plenty of coverage over his lap.

"I think he can read minds better than Anata'ka." Kirk muttered humorously before speaking louder to address their visitor. "Come in."

Pahzj and Nesz entered softly and efficiently, setting about their morning routine as if it were not four hours later than usual.

"Good morning, Ambassador, My Lady." The elder Potakai greeted them warmly. "May Nesz pour you both coffee?"

"Please, we would love some." Uhura smiled up at the Menage. "And, did we miss breakfast?"

"No Mistress, you did not. We thought you both might sleep longer this morning due to the lateness of the Ball, so we planned accordingly."

Taking the proffered coffee from the young Menage, Uhura placed the cup on her chest and sipped it.

"Oh my…that's wonderful…the replicators can't compete with this." She sighed.

The Menage beamed at her; thrilled with the idea they had pleased her so. Remembering a duty, Pahzj turned toward Kirk and spoke.

"Ambassador, you and Lady Uhura have received an invitation from Ramsha'ka to spend the afternoon and evening with his crèche. It is an informal gathering of his personal householders, a rite of passage from being the Heir of Potakai to Emperor of Potakai. He would be honored with your presence as well."

"We would be honored to attend, Pahzj. Just tell us where and when." Kirk replied after glancing over at Uhura for any concerns.

"I shall inform him at once. As I said, it is informal. They will begin to gather on the beach just after mid-day--"

"Uh, excuse me Pahzj, gather on the beach?" Uhura asked. She had not brought along any beach attire for them. She looked over at Kirk with an 'uh-oh' look on her face.

Nesz understood Uhura's hesitancy and spoke quickly. "Yes, Mistress, but do not worry. We can provide appropriate clothing for the beach."

"Oh yes, Mistress," Pahzj concurred, "We have access to anything you need."

Kirk grinned down at her and shrugged. He was game for Potakai beachwear, so how could she refuse?

"Great, Pahzj, then it's settled. Tell Ramsha'ka we'll see him on the beach just as soon as we've eaten something and figured out how to wear whatever you give us." The last line he grinned to Nesz, who promptly flushed, but returned the smile instead of fleeing the room.

"At once, Ambassador. I'm sure Ramsha'ka will have games and water sports planned. It should be much fun." The elder Potakai spoke with considerable enthusiasm.

***

The beach was breathtaking. The mauve waves curled in and broke on the distant protective reef, their mesmerizing journey only slightly interrupted as they continued on to the shore. Uhura's feet sank into the warm black volcanic sand. She stopped, taking off her sandals so she could navigate more easily to the brilliant pavilions staked out near the sea. The sun kissed her exposed skin and she let it sink in and take possession of her.

It soon became apparent why Pahzj was so enthusiastic earlier that morning when he spoke of the gathering; he and Nesz were invited too. Both of them were dressed in casual shorts and shirts and practically giddy with excitement. They led the way to the biggest pavilion, knowing that was where to find their hosts.

Nesz had done an excellent job of clothing them for the occasion. She had dressed Uhura in a provocative orange and red flowery bikini. However, for modesty's sake Nesz had also given her a matching sarong wrap to tie low over her hips. For Kirk, she had chosen a set of trunks in an abstract print of rich green. They too sat low over the hips, though the fact that they came down mid-thigh gave him a little more coverage than Uhura. He also had a matching cover up shirt, but he was shedding it as they walked, letting the sun soak into his already tan skin.

Uhura had to pull her eyes away from watching the ripple of muscles in his back and concentrate on slogging through the sand. The welts on his back, evidence of her enjoyment from their morning together, were still plainly visible. She had been mortified to see them when Kirk had changed into his trunks. There could be no denying what they were or who had done the damage. Jim, on the other hand, had just grinned when he turned to see in the mirror what had her in such a state. He just shrugged, acting more proud of his 'wounds' than anything else.

There were Potakai everywhere: old Potakai, young Potakai, Menage, Citizens, and Aristocrats. Far away, Uhura could see a perimeter of Warriors standing guard around them. Stiff and erect, the only movement she could detect was the wind blowing through their crests. She looked around and noticed even the Aristocrats had their crests pulled back and bound, protecting their beautiful plumage from the ravages of the wind and sea.

She, herself had her hair combed back and tucked in a tight bun at the base of her neck, but the wind had already found a stray lock or two to dance before her eyes. Kirk's short hair was blowing in the wind too; she grinned, noticing that his always-errant lock was having a field-day dancing in the breeze.

As they stepped under the open-sided pavilion, Uhura was finally able to see the royal couple. Ramsha'ka spied them immediately and broke into a big grin, welcoming them with a wave of his hand. Pahzj and Nesz smiled and let them go--now free to enjoy themselves.

"Zhames, Nyota, we are happy you chose to come." He beamed at them and back at Lilu'ka. Both he and his mate's crests were pulled back in an intricate braid that trailed down their backs. Smiling teasingly at his mate, Ramsha'ka continued.

"I was not sure if such a casual event would be enjoyable for Humans. So much water scares Lilu. Gengi is a dry world, but Earth has large oceans, does it not?"

"Yes, Ramsha'ka, it does, though I was born and raised inland. But I love the sea. Swimming, sailing, and walking the beach--I wouldn't pass this up. And Nyota grew up on an island. Her brother captains a commercial fishing fleet." Kirk smiled at Uhura as he drew attention to her family.

"Oh, a fisherman? Did you know the early Potakai were fishermen? The Menage are direct ancestors of their way of life. In the olden days, Potakai fishermen would pluck their plumes and weave them into fishing nets. That is why the today's Menage are bald or shorn, in honor of their ancestors who fed the village."

"How fascinating." Uhura acknowledged; she was always interested in hearing how a society evolved.

"Yes, and then they tamed the basc and formed a partnership with them. Together they could feed many. Zhames, you must come over to the pier--we have basc to ride today. It is great fun!"

At Lilu's shudder, Uhura cast a questioning eye at the two males.

"Do not be alarmed, Nyota. Zhames is safe if he likes the sea. I do not, but I do enjoy seeing Ramsha so happy. Our basc are domesticated animals and very gentle with Potakai."

"Basc?" Uhura and Kirk asked in unison.

"Yes. Large animals that resemble fish, but come to the surface to breathe air. While not sentient, they possess the ability to sense emotions and can communicate with Potakai in a crude fashion. As I said, in the past, Potakai formed partnerships with them to fish. We have never really understood what the basc gained from the relationship. They certainly didn't need our help to hunt, but they seem to enjoy our emotions. Our basc are domesticated, but wild basc have been known to approach Potakai too."

"--And they have been known to eat a stray Potakai or two." Anata'ka chimed in as she and Chota'di made their entrance.

"Grandmother! Do not scare Zhames away with such a stretch of the truth." Ramsha'ka scolded, but still grinned at the Dowager as she greeted her grandson.

"Ramsha, I hardly believe a big fish will scare away Zhames. I hazard to guess he has seen far deadlier creatures in the course of his journeys." The Empress sighed as she sat next to Lilu.

"Greetings, my children. Are you all enjoying Ramsha'ka's last fling at being mortal? I personally would have preferred a gathering at the pool." Anata'ka glanced meaningfully at her heir.

"Yes, Grandmother, I did consider that, but there wasn't enough room for everyone. The children needed room to run and we could set up more food and beverage stations so everyone could sustain themselves instead of being served."

"Yes, Ramsha, I do know--but the sand and wind are hard on my skin and crest. You just ensure your crest is presentable tomorrow--nothing broken or bent will be tolerated. I, personally, will pluck them if that happens." She smiled, but the threat was real.

Uhura and Kirk watched the family dynamics unfold before them. Anata'ka was being crotchety and had no problem still ruling the roost. Ramsha'ka deferred to her, but more out of love for the cranky old woman than out of any real fear of threat.

"I promise to be especially careful. Well, Zhames, Chota'di--care to ride a basc?"

Uhura noted the quick glance between Anata'ka and Chota'di--his in surprise at being included--hers in acquiesce. She caught Jim's own smile and returned it to him; he was fairly chomping at the bit.

"Go then. I will stay and be entertained by the better part of your bonds." Anata'ka motioned with her hands that they were dismissed, practically shooing them away like little boys. Which fit really, as their hurried saunter toward the pier could in no way be described as dignified.

The women all watched them go toward the pier, Ramsha'ka in a pair of teal trunks and Chota'di sporting a pair of black and gold ones. Uhura noted that Ramsha'ka moved to Kirk's left and sandwiched the shorter Human between himself and Chota’di. Their sleek and shiny deep indigo skin appeared all the darker against the gold of Kirk's own flesh. The vibrant colors of their tattoos on their arms, and Chota'di's face, were so intense Uhura had to squint against the sun's reflection off them. Kirk was a full head shorter than both Potakai, and his lack of tattoos somehow made him appear the youngest of the bunch. However, the triangle made between the breadth of his shoulders and the taper of his waist clearly marked him as the stronger male.

"All right, we have ogled them enough." Anata'ka declared; though she herself was still studying them with a practiced eye as they reached the pier.

She noticed Uhura grinning at her and smiled back conspiratorially.

"I'll never be too old to enjoy handsome men, Nyota. My grandson notwithstanding, Zhames is truly breathtaking. If he had a crest, I would be moved to challenge you for him."

Lilu'ka colored at her Grandmother's remark and Anata'ka shrugged her shoulders, dismissing the implied embarrassment.

"Ah, Granddaughter, whenever you have lived as long and as lonely as I, then you can rebuke me. Tomorrow your bond-mate becomes Emperor. All the other women will be jealous of you, but still I see the look of interest in your eyes."

Lilu colored even more and tried to speak, but Anata'ka cut her off.

"Do not deny it, Granddaughter. I see it in your mind, but there is no harm in it. I know you are devoted to Ramsha and Nyota knows I merely tease with her."

"Yes, Grandmother." Lilu answered in a subdued, but respectful tone. A twinge of violet still flushed her cheeks, but she brazened it out.

"So, Granddaughter, how did you manage to get the crèche mothers to agree to this outing? They rarely choose to come outside the conclave anymore." Anata'ka asked curiously, finally taking her own advice to change the subject.

"I think it may have been the promise of roasted goi and infinite kegs of chee for tonight's meal that won them over." Lilu smiled mischievously.

"Ah, I knew we chose well for Ramsha, you understand that the crèche is the source and must be made an ally." Anata'ka nodded in approval of the young woman's tactics.

"Thank you, Grandmother. And speaking of them, I think it is time I should go greet the elder mothers. May I tell them you will come shortly?" Lilu smiled graciously, obviously pleased at the compliment.

"Yes, go Granddaughter. Tell them I will come later, when I am ready. Advise them that I will bring Nyota as well." She looked pointedly at Lilu, reinforcing her dominance over all in attendance. She might need the crèche mothers, but would never cow to them.

"Yes, Grandmother." Lilu nodded in place of dipping her bound crest and left them to pay her respects to the matriarchs of their crèche.

Now, all alone with Nyota at the forward edge of their pavilion, Anata'ka eyed the consort appraisingly for a long moment. Uhura felt the feather touch of her mind as it brushed lightly in her thoughts, but nothing as intense as the night of the reception.

"So, Child, you seem better than when we spoke last. I take it that you and Zhames have come to an understanding?" The Dowager inquired too casually. As Uhura's eyes widened, the telepath continued.

"No, Child, I do not delve into your intimate moments together. I respect your privacy, but I can sense the easing of tension between you both and the brightening of your spirit. And now, from your perspective, I even understand the connection I sensed earlier between you. This 'meld' you shared with Zhames and Spock, it *did* link a part of you together. The bond was very deep in your minds. I could sense it, but not truly see it."

Her intense turquoise eyes were locked with Uhura's, capturing the Human in their power as easily as a cobra hypnotized its prey.

"It was unnatural and your minds rebelled against the union, but your bodies craved each other, knowing it was the only way to resolve the conflict. Yes, the bond is broken now, but you can still feel its echo--and I think you both always will." Anata'ka's eyes lost focus and she seemed to turn her thoughts inward for a moment, started to say more, but stopped herself.

"I have my life back now and that wouldn't be possible without him." Uhura replied. Saying anything else seemed superfluous.

"That is true, but he has gained something too. You have made a place in his heart for all time. One of the few who will ever do so, and the only one who won't abandon him at some point in his life. It may take months or years for him to realize this, but that day will come." The elder woman decreed with a sincerity that Uhura didn't dare challenge.

"And now, see the boys at play." Anata'ka looked out near the pier and motioned for Uhura to do the same. She felt herself go faint. Moving out to sea, she could see three huge shadows moving just under the water's surface. Sitting atop each was a lone rider, their forms tiny in comparison with the basc they 'rode'. Uhura had no idea that the basc would be so large. She had thought they might be the size of a dolphin, or possibly an Orca, but these creatures were much larger, more in line with the extinct species of whales back on Earth.

Anata'ka laughed at the shocked look etched on her face.

"Yes, they are big. Zhames was just as surprised as you, but he did not let that stop him. In fact, the lead cow chose him and left the others to the younger bulls. At first, I think she just wanted to sense the stranger, to see if he posed a threat to her herd, but now she is caught up in his enthusiasm."

Unable to form a reply, Uhura could just make out their forms as the dark shadows made a wide turn and quickly drove back toward the shore. Ramsha'ka stood up on the back of his basc as they both balanced on the top of a huge wave. The basc weaved in and out of the tunnel of water before finally cutting back out to sea.

Uhura's eyes quickly sought out the form of Kirk and watched as he attempted to mimic Ramsha'ka's behavior. The basc he rode was easily the largest of the three and was charging into the wave faster than the other had. Kirk was on his feet and crouched low as the massive wave curled around him. The basc kept them just at the lip of the wave, racing in close to the reef before arching back sharply and slicing back across the wave toward the open sea. Kirk held it for a moment, but a final buck from the basc sent him sailing off before crashing headfirst into the water.

Uhura stood up, looking anxiously for Kirk to break the surface. She saw the basc sink down deeper in the water and finally come up with Kirk lying across her back. He slowly sat up and shook his head, obviously trying to get his bearings. After a moment, he turned and waved toward their pavilion and Uhura felt herself relax.

"Nyota, he says to tell you he is fine and that he forgot what it was like to ride a bronc."

Uhura laughed at his joke and knew he was really okay.

"I told him to keep a rein on his enthusiasm, as the basc feed on our emotions. The old cow just got caught up in the thrill and launched him. I think it was 'yee ha' that did it." Anata'ka grinned wickedly.

Uhura laughed out loud with that remark. She had always thought of him as a cowboy, but now had proof that he thought of himself as one too.

Anata'ka's eyes quickly tracked for Chota'di as he and his basc made their run for a big wave. He was up and in the tunnel, skirting the edge of the wall of water with his hand, just as Uhura had seen countless professional surfers do back on Earth. He rode the wave to the end before his basc, the smallest of the three, cut back to join the others.

Uhura watched Anata'ka as well as Chota'di, interested in the dowager's behavior as she observed her escort conquer the wave.

"He is handsome, is he not?" Anata'ka asked dreamily without taking her eyes off the general.

"Very." Uhura admitted honestly. His well-defined muscles could easily be seen as the sun cast shadow and light off the angles of his skin.

"Would you believe a Warrior could ride so well? Or, for that matter, even consider it to do? Anata'ka asked Uhura frankly.

Uhura was speechless for a moment. She realized Anata'ka was speaking to her as a fellow Potakai, not a human to which such restrictions in behavior were non-existent.

"I find the General's behavior to be amazing on many levels." She finally answered.

Anata'ka turned and studied her for an instant, assessing her statement.

"Forgive me, Child. I forget you humans are not so emotionally constrained by biology. But nevertheless, you are correct--the General's behavior is amazing."

Lilu'ka re-entered the pavilion and made her way to their side once again. Noting the basc-riders out to sea, she smiled.

"Ramsha is enjoying himself immensely. I fear we will have a tough time talking him back in."

"Ha! He better enjoy it now." Anata'ka warned. "Because when Nyota and I get back from visiting the crèche mothers, they must bring the basc through the reef and let the children ride them."

"He says take your time visiting and he's not even sure if Zhames' basc can navigate the channel anymore. She may be too big." Lilu'ka remarked out loud.

Uhura realized her speaking was more for her sake than Anata'ka's. She glanced out to sea and noticed the cleft cut in the reef that separated the pounding surf from the relatively calm waves breaking against the beach. It was narrow, cut at an angle to minimize any surf breakthrough and quite possibly too small for the cow to pass through.

"My visit is my own affair, Grandson. And I would love to see someone try to keep that cow out of the sanctuary once she realizes the little ones are here." Anata'ka chuffed at Lilu, but primarily speaking to Ramsha through their link.

"The crèche mothers are not so keen on taking the youngest ones out into the sea." Lilu'ka tentatively.

"Then they should have left them in the nursery. If they are old enough to play in the sand, then they are old enough to brave the sea. Besides, there are more than enough Menage to attend each child. How can they learn what the world has to offer by standing on the shore?" Anata'ka scoffed.

"Nyota, let us get this visit over with. My temper does not bear maternal clinginess well. The old women grow dotty with age, thinking I would let something happen to our future…."

Lilu glanced at Uhura, a silent flash of exasperation evident in her face. Uhura gave an understanding smile to the younger woman. Grandmothers were the same all over--some things were a universal constant.

***

TBC

~ID'ic

Healing Touch Chapter 9 K/U [NC-17]

2010-03-13T22:21:00.002-06:00

Image: You don't even want to know....

Disclaimer: Paramount owns Star Trek. I only own my fantasies.

Beta: Sincere gratitude goes to: Nyotava, Bandicca, Zapp and Trekskitten for such wonderful betaing! Each of them brought fresh insight and used their unique expertise to make this story a reality.

Summary: A sequel to "My Faith in You," addressing Uhura's recovery from a brutal attack and the depths of Kirk's commitment to keep her in his world.

~~~~

The Governor's Ball had been in full swing when Pahzj finally decided it was time for them to make their appearance. Apparently, arriving fashionably late was a method of establishing your rank in Potakai society. Since it was a fete arranged by the Planetary Governors, they had no choice but to be punctual; however, the Royal party did not arrive until shortly after Kirk and Uhura.

The Federation Consort was in awe as they entered the ballroom. Hundreds of couples were dancing Potakai-style, that is, facing each other, crests displayed in the most erect posture possible and both palms extended to meet their partners. The couples swirled across the floor in stylized unison. Everyone was dressed to the hilt; she was bedazzled by the opulence that surrounded her. The only thing she could compare it to was Carnivale on Risa--flashy but structured.

Uhura suddenly felt very small and plain. There was nothing she could do about her height--even the stilettos she wore did not put her at eye level with Jim, and he was shorter than the average Potakai. However, in their apartments she had been pleased with her attire, a richly embroidered maroon silk that swathed her body in Roman fashion--one shoulder and hip bare with a long train draped across the opposite shoulder. Now she felt like the ugly duckling, there was no way she could compete with the easy grace and glamour that exuded from the women here. She froze for a moment and brought Kirk up short as he attempted to continue their entrance. A knowing smile transformed his face and his eyes softened as he took in her hesitancy.

"Penda, you're just as beautiful as any woman here. In fact, you're more beautiful because I have you all to myself." He whispered softly into her ear.

The compliment caused electricity to race along Uhura's spine and she drew herself erect while searching for a confident smile. Uhura allowed him to draw her into the maelstrom of pageantry, barely aware of anyone other than him. His attention helped her recapture the poise that had momentarily escaped her.

Tonight Jim was so handsome it almost hurt to look at him. He wore a deep forest green suit with copper-hammered studs embedded across the shoulders and tapered down the center of his cropped jacket. His only other embellishments were a Federation pin he wore over his heart and the feather token from Anata'ka in his hair. When he smiled at her he took her breath away. How would she be able to let him go? Uhura shoved that thought away; they still had time together and she would not waste it worrying about reality. Now was not reality--now was definitely not reality.

"Zhames and Nyota, you make a handsome couple tonight." Anata'ka greeted them warmly as they neared the Royal entourage. Chota'di stood by her side and gave them both a slight nod.

"Yes, Ambassador, I must admit you Humans seem to understand Potakai custom well. I believe Lady Uhura has outdone all the women here." Ramsha'ka outrageously flirted with her. Uhura felt her cheeks flush with happy embarrassment, but she managed to give the handsome Prince a charming smile.

"Thank you, Your Highness." She replied demurely.

"I was just complimenting her myself, Ramsha'ka, but I think we would be remiss if we failed to include Anata'ka and Lilu'ka in that assessment as well."

Kirk gave the women a devastating smile before taking their hands and bowing low, touching each hand to his brow. It was a Potakai ritual for showing courtly affection between a man and a woman. Both women fairly tittered at the unabashed flirt and Ramsha'ka laughed as he nodded in agreement with Kirk. Uhura noted Chota'di did not; he was busily schooling his features to show nothing at all. She decided it would be prudent to bring him into the conversation as well.

"And General, may I say you look quite handsome in your uniform." She allowed the attraction she felt for the elegant Warrior to shine through her eyes.

A small smile curled the corners of Chota'di's mouth and Uhura was struck by the similarity she found with Spock's ghost of a smile he sometimes shared with her. In fact, she realized, Chota'di reminded her of the Vulcan in many ways: his quiet reserve, coupled with tremendous powers of observation and dedication--just to name a few. Anata'ka looked up at her escort and fairly beamed with pride. He was handsome and she could not help but acknowledge that point.

"Thank you, My Lady." He replied back formally but he softened the response by allowing some warmth to reach his eyes as well.

"Zhames, this is a Ball, would you and Nyota humor us by showing us how Human's dance? We are curious to see if it is anything like Potakai dancing. We would be interested to learn." The Dowager asked in the Royal mode.

Kirk looked at Uhura, arching his brow in silent communion; they had known this moment was coming. She felt butterflies in the pit of her stomach, but smiled nonetheless; they were at a Ball after all.

"I assure you, Your Highness, we are hardly role models, but I believe we can demonstrate the basics. It would appear the main difference in our dancing is how closely the partners are to each other. We Humans do not have such magnificent crests, so we tend to dance closer together."

As the next tune began, Kirk held out his hand to Uhura, escorting her out onto the dance floor. The music was only slightly slower than what had been playing previously. Kirk pulled Uhura close into his arms. She draped her arm around his neck and melded her body into his as he swept her across the floor in a graceful waltz. His hand slipped to her bare hip and gently caressed it as he danced with her. She knew he could feel her shiver under his touch, yet he tortured her more by moving his hand to rest against the small of her back. Every place their bodies touched set Uhura on fire.

She lost herself in the moment as they danced. All the other couples stopped and watched the two Humans as they glided across the floor. He moved them gracefully, full of confidence even as they became the center of attention. He smiled down at her and Uhura found herself laughing back; the confidence was contagious when she was with him. The music ended all too quickly in Uhura's opinion, but the Potakai chirps of applause caused her to be grateful they had ended their dance so near the Royals.

"I think Humans have the advantage over Potakai where dancing is concerned." Anata'ka exclaimed enviously.

"Nyota, would you allow me to dance with Zhames in Human fashion? See, Zhames, there is a reason your crest is short, it will allow us to dance 'together' as you phrased it."

Uhura grinned at the surprised look on Kirk's face before answering the Dowager. "Of course, Your Highness."

Kirk recovered well. He extended his hand and led the Empress out onto the floor with a flourish. Anata'ka placed her hand on his shoulder while Kirk placed his hand high in the center of her back. Anata'ka was just as tall as Jim was and she looked him confidently in the eyes as he eased them across the floor. After a few false steps Anata'ka quickly settled into his rhythm.

'Well, another good use of telepathy' Uhura thought. 'She can sense his moves before he makes them. It helps in language, why not dancing.'

Ramsha'ka took Lilu'ka's hand and escorted her out to join the other couple. They began to dance as well; however, wary of entanglements, they danced Potakai fashion. Other couples slowly began to return to the dance floor. Ramsha'ka's entry seemed to note that it was permissible to join in. Uhura felt a presence beside her and looked up into Chota'di's pensive eyes.

"Would Lady Uhura honor me with a dance?" He asked cautiously, as if he was more worried she would accept rather than decline.

"I would, General." She affirmed graciously.

He led her out onto the floor and placed his hands, palms outward to her in Potakai fashion. Uhura placed her palms against his and allowed him to press her into the swirl of other couples. He was an excellent dancer and kept her from embarrassing them too much. Occasionally she caught him watching Anata'ka and Kirk, just for a moment, but he knew where they were at all times. Uhura quickly learned to enjoy this style of dancing, while it was not nearly as physically intimate as human dancing could be, the opportunity to stare into your partner's eyes could be quite arousing on its own.

As the first song ended, Chota'di kept her on the floor, surreptitiously watching to see if Anata'ka and Kirk returned to the sidelines. When they did not, he asked her to dance with him again. She accepted and he pushed her to the fringes, away from most of the other couples as they began their second dance. When she looked up again, he held her gaze before speaking.

"Anat says you and I have much in common as well." He started, alluding back to their conversation earlier in the day.

"Oh, really? In what way General?" Uhura asked. She noticed Chota'di used the familiar form of the Dowager's name. Within the Potakai language, failing to use an honorific was an acknowledgement of intimacy.

"She says you and the Ambassador are not allowed to show your true feelings for one another. That, as your captain, he is your superior and you are a vassal to his duty." His voice was low, speaking just loudly enough for her to hear.

Uhura was shocked, but attempted to keep her face composed. Here was the Commanding General of all the Potakai Warriors admitting to her of his forbidden involvement with the Empress. Yet, she supposed, from his perspective, she was a kindred spirit.

"Misa mren, is that the right word?" Uhura asked cautiously, she had no idea where this conversation was going.

"Yes, it describes my situation with Anat." He answered forthrightly.

"In our culture, to be alone is unthinkable for one of her caste and rank. However, no one has been strong enough to challenge or bond with her. Still, most of our ceremonies require a mate; therefore, I became her escort in public. Over the years the role has taken on new meaning. Anat has taught me to 'appreciate' many ideas foreign to a Warrior."

Uhura watched as Chota'di's face grew soft as he relived those memories for a moment before bringing himself back to the present. He glided her away from a stray couple before renewing the conversation.

"If we are similar, how do you stand it? How do you work beside him each day and then go to your quarters alone each night?" His voice was edged with strain, both from the emotions felt and the stress of actually voicing them.

Moved to express some form of compassion, Uhura laced her fingers with his and squeezed gently. Careful of their appearance, he forced his crest back into brilliant display as he looked to her for answers.

"I consider the alternatives. Until recently, I guess I've always just accepted our roles within Starfleet's regulations. I'm not sure I could even stand to be the sole focus of his attention. But, for now, that's not an option and I must live with it or leave the Enterprise. I'm choosing to live with it. We don't have the ability to share thoughts as you and Anata'ka do, but we have been able to come to an understanding of a sort. It's fragile, and destined to end once this mission is over, but it's more than I ever expected to have. I guess bittersweet is better than no sweetness at all. I know that’s not very helpful to you, but only you can find a reason worthy enough to keep going."

Uhura stumbled to find the words to describe her relationship with Jim. Perhaps she was more confused than Chota'di... .

"I'm trying, but it is difficult to see the world as she does. I am a Warrior, born to protect. I have done so faithfully all my life. Now, she would ask me to forget what I am--to be something, someone different--I cannot. When the time comes I will die with my Warriors. I would do as she asks, and stay with her, but it is not meant to be."

Uhura's mind reeled with the implication of Chota'di's confession. Here was further evidence that Anata'ka planned to change the Warrior's destiny.

"I'm sorry, Chota'di. I can't fathom what it must be like to know one's destiny with such finality. I do know it is an honor to have met you." Tears came to Uhura's eyes and she had to blink them away quickly.

"Do not be sad, My Lady. It is the greatest honor to have served well and brought an end to the war. My only regret will be in leaving Anat alone once again."

For the first time, Chota'di smiled a full, if somewhat sad smile. His face morphed from the stern, battle-hardened Warrior, to a gentle, loving man. As the music ended the second time, he again searched the crowd and saw Anata'ka and Kirk walk to the side. He smiled again, this time with less sadness. Guiding her back toward the returning couple, he softly spoke into her ear.

"I am grateful for your honesty, My Lady. I wish you much happiness in your life."

"General," Anata'ka spoke in amused resignation, "We can postpone our acknowledgement of the Governors for no longer. It shan't be nearly as fun as human dancing, but duty must come first."

Anata'ka smiled with no hint of regret as she fluttered her feathers before continuing.

"Zhames, I'm afraid I have set a bad precedent by indulging my curiosity. I sense many that intend to ask the same favor of you and Nyota. Please forgive me. Potakai curiosity never wanes."

Kirk gave her a wry grin in return before replying for their ears only.

"Just be sure and warn me if I start to get into trouble again. I noticed Kesh'ka was here tonight too."

"That is, as you would say, 'a deal'." Anata'ka laughed and quickly tossed her crest in agreement before allowing Chota'di to escort her to the Governor's dais. The General nodded respectfully to Kirk, but dropped his crest to Uhura as he led the Dowager away. In an apparent effort to close ranks, Ramsha'ka and Lilu'ka joined them on their way.

"So, did you enjoy your turn around the floor with the General?" Kirk asked with a smile.

"Oh, definitely, he's quite an excellent dancer. " Uhura tried to sound carefree, but she couldn't quite get the edge of sadness out of her voice. Kirk watched the retreating form of the Warrior for a moment before looking at her intently. She knew he was ready to ask her what was wrong, but she pressed on, somehow not ready to share her moment with the General.

"As Anata'ka's escort, he must put in a lot of practice. How did you and Anata'ka do?" She asked just a little too brightly. She could tell he was still debating whether to question her or leave it till later.

"Pretty well, mostly. She seemed to have a difficult time remembering where to keep her hands, though. I practically got felt up a time or two." He confided only partly in jest.

Uhura tried very hard not to burst out in laughter. Hearing Kirk complain, even jokingly, of someone taking advantage of him was just priceless. At the sight of her near hysteria, he rolled his eyes and took on an air of long suffering.

"I am not as bad as everyone makes me out to be." He said in exasperation.

"You're right. Absolutely not--you're worse." She answered with a knowing grin. His attempt to humor her at his own expense touched Uhura's heart.

"Remind me to put you on report later." He muttered as he tried to squelch his own smile.

When the next song began, eager Potakai approached both Humans. As Anata'ka had warned, their evening quickly degenerated into a custom-exchange program. Neither Kirk nor Uhura had much time to themselves for the rest of the Ball, as it became the novelty of the evening to dance in Human fashion.

***

Uhura tipped into her bedroom, kicking the despised stilettos off as she rounded the corner. She stopped suddenly in mid-kick, as she noticed the room was bare of all her possessions. Flinging off the second shoe, she padded around the room gingerly, looking to see if anything of hers was left. Finding nothing, she sighed and made her way out into the common room. As usual, it appeared the staff had all retired for the evening. Uhura approached Kirk's door and knocked softly on the open panel.

Kirk was standing at the foot of his bed, holding up a silky negligee that in no way could be construed as 'his size'. At the sound of her approach, he turned, moving the wisp of material in her direction.

"I think this would look better on you. What do you think?" He offered casually.

"Oh, I don't know, I guess so. I did promise you nothing in pink." Uhura quipped back; at least she had found her belongings.

"And I thank you; however, it would appear Pahzj and Nesz have decided we should be roommates." He said as he glanced around the room, taking in the extra set of belongings now ensconced there.

"I mean, why keep dirtying up two rooms when we seem to spend so much time in this one?" He grinned and brought the nightie to her, holding it out and matching it up to her body.

"A logical train of thought. I can stand it if you can." She grinned at him and attempted to take the proffered garment, but he pulled it back toward himself.

"Do you really need to put this on, just to have me take it off?" The playfulness in his eyes set Uhura's nerves aflame.

"Sometimes that's half the fun." She answered seductively and tried again to reach for the negligee, stepping forward and wincing in pain as her foot reminded her of its prior abuse.

"Owww," she hissed and made her way to the nearest place to sit--the edge of his bed.

Quickly grasping the reason for her whimper, Kirk quipped, "Ahhh, and now I'll have to cite you for being wounded in the line of duty," as he sat down next to her, negligee forgotten, and reached down to pull her aching feet up into his lap.

She flushed for a moment as his strong fingers kneaded the soles of her feet. Even after the intimacy they had shared, his nurturing action made her turn to jelly inside. Being able to do nothing other than lie back and enjoy it, she complied as he continued to massage the ache from first one foot and then the other. She closed her eyes and savored his ministrations, opening them as his touch turned more sensual and moved up her leg.

"Now, is that better?" He asked softly as he slipped out from under her feet and pulled himself up beside her on the bed.

"Mmmm...much better." She purred. He had both relaxed and aroused her with his tenderness.

"Good. Now, where were we? Something about the necessity of you undressing... ." He whispered in her ear as he rolled onto his back and pulled Uhura along with him. From that vantage he was able to loosen the train of her gown and pull it away from her shoulders, exposing her breasts.

"You're too good at this." Uhura chided him as she found herself nearly undressed.

"I just executed a highly considered plan. I should get praise for its flawlessness, not chastised." He remarked as he rolled her onto her back and began to nip and caress what he had exposed.

"Oh...mmm...you're definitely going to get praised." She sighed in his ear as he moved up and started nibbling on her neck.

Uhura felt her way to the fastenings of his jacket and worked them free. She pushed it off his shoulders while he continued to nuzzle her ear. Finally, he stopped and got off the bed, attempting to undress before she stopped him with a challenge.

"Slowly, Jim, do it slowly so I can look at you and enjoy it."

At her words his eyes became dark, his pupils dilating with excitement, but he stopped rushing and began the ritual of slowly undressing. Each move was a seduction in and of itself as he finished removing his jacket, then began to torture her with each fastener of his shirt. Uhura's own eyes dilated in excitement as he stood there in his open shirt, the fire fountain light dancing across the muscles of his chest. A small whimper escaped her lips when he undid the fly of his pants; slowly peeling them off his hips and letting them drop to the floor. He stepped out of them gracefully and Uhura's eyes fixated on his prominent erection straining against his briefs.

"I might need help with these." He said huskily.

Uhura quickly pulled herself to her knees and reached out to him, but slowed down as she touched his hips.

"Perhaps I could be persuaded to offer some assistance. What do I get in return?" She whispered into his ear as she teasingly ran her fingers along the band of his briefs.

"Oh, I don't know. I thought I had earned some credit with that foot massage." Playing her game, he chuckled deep in his throat as he began to caress her breasts. "But if you need more enticement, I'm sure we can work something out."

"I'm sure we can." Uhura agreed as she slid her fingers into his waistband and slowly eased them off his hips.

Kirk stood still and allowed her to stroke him all over as she pushed the briefs to the floor. Freed from the last of his clothes, he continued his quest in removing the rest of Uhura's gown. His hands traveled lightly and delightfully over her body as he unwound the last of the silk and tossed the offending garment to the floor.

Still on her knees, Uhura smiled at him as she leaned in to taste his lips. Tonight was far different from the night before. Gone was the fear of allowing his touch. Now, it had been replaced by an overwhelming desire to possess him; she actually burned with need. She was desperate to experience, in their few remaining nights together, what she suspected a lifetime could not hold. In fact, the impermanence of it made her daring, willing to push the boundary of their new relationship.

She ran her fingers through his hair as she pulled him tightly to her body. The heat and hardness she felt between them only enflamed her more. She reached down and grasped his firm shaft with one hand, stroking and squeezing it with desire. With the other hand she cupped his testicles: heavy with promise, they provoked her into action. Breaking free from the returned embrace, Uhura scooted back onto the bed, drawing Jim down with her.

"Tonight, I want to make love to you. Tonight--I'm the Captain and you must obey *me*." She whispered as she pushed him onto his back and settled herself across his hips.

"Close your eyes. They distract me too much and I want to focus solely on you. I want to touch you all over and memorize every inch of you."

"I thought you'd never ask." He purred against her lips as he returned her kisses.

"I'm shy." Uhura said with a wink as she sat up and brazenly rubbed her own breasts and hips.

"I used to think so." Kirk sighed softly as he closed his eyes and lay back, letting her take charge of the evening.

Uhura started at his head and ran her fingers through his hair; it was soft and silky between her fingers. She stroked his face with her hands, gently caressing his temple and jaw, memorizing the planes and angles of his handsome features. Next, she outlined his ears with the edge of a nail and felt him shudder at her touch. She passed her fingertips gently over his brow and drank in the sight of his long lashes resting against his skin. For now, the mesmerizing hazel eyes were hidden from her gaze. The eyes that, with a glance, could make her do anything.

She softly ran her finger across his bottom lip and Kirk's mouth slightly opened, inviting her to slip it inside. Uhura slid the tip in, seeking the soft wetness of his tongue, and was met with that and more. He sucked on the tip and she allowed him to draw more of her finger inside his mouth. His tongue wrapped itself around the intruder and Uhura felt the reaction all the way down into her core. At her shudder, a knowing smile lit Jim's face and she was able to rescue her finger from further provocation.

From his mouth, she continued on to his strong neck and shoulders. Here she stopped briefly and leaned in to nuzzle the tender spot where the two met. Her nipples grazed his hot skin and he raised his hands, ready to take possession, before he caught himself and dropped them back to the bed. Uhura breathed in deeply, losing herself in his scent mixed in with the spiciness of his cologne. She nipped under his chin and the delicate lobe of his ear.

She ran her hands down across the deep muscle of his shoulders, marveling at the smooth hardness under her touch, before continuing downward over the length of his biceps and forearms. She brushed lightly backwards against the hair on his forearms and felt chill bumps rise on his skin from her gentle teasing.

Reaching down, she picked up one of his hands and laced her fingers with his before pulling it to her mouth and kissing his palm. She traced his lifeline with her tongue and nipped the pads at the base of his fingers. Finally, she took one of his fingers in her mouth and sucked it till he let out a soft moan and arched his body up into hers. She pressed her hips down hard against his and waited for him to relax, then placed his fingers against her lips and let him feel her smile. She returned his arm back against his side and continued her exploration of his body.

She ran her hands over his smooth pectorals, stopping to brush the tips of his nipples on her way down his chest. Again she leaned down, capturing first one and then the other of his hard buds between her teeth and gently tugging. A soft hiss escaped his lips and his hands were on her hips, pulling her against him. She let go of her prize and he slowly loosened his grip, letting her work her way toward greater rewards.

Uhura moved down his taut belly, until she came to the inviting hairline that started just below his navel. She inched her way down its path to find his throbbing erection. It jumped in excitement as her breath caressed it. She kissed its moist head and he moaned and arched his back, begging for something more. Uhura lazily licked the head, allowing her tongue to play with its groove before slowly engulfing him. She pulled herself away, letting all but his head escape before she took him back into her mouth. This time with more speed and firmness, then pulling away slowly again. She continued, varying the pattern and speed of her lips and tongue. Kirk's hands entwined into her hair and he moaned in time with her movements.

His soft cries and the hardness she was devouring brought Uhura to her own limits. She regretfully let him go so she could climb back up his body and capture the lips that were softly calling her name. She rose up on her knees and slowly sank down upon him. He growled deep in his throat and kissed her back hard. She knew he wanted to thrust up with his hips, but he settled for doing so with just his tongue. He allowed her to set the pace as she finally settled on him and gently started to rock. His hands found her breasts and claimed them, kneading them roughly at first before turning tender.

Uhura rode him, grinding herself against his hardness, clenching sore muscles around the welcome invader. She increased her tempo, caught up in the primal rhythm that controlled her. Kirk's hips slammed up to meet hers, each thrust pushing her nearer and nearer. As she clenched one last time of her own volition, her body took over and began its own spasm of release. Wave after wave of pleasure racked her body and caused stronger contractions. He could no longer resist and came himself, pulling her down against him in a powerful embrace and holding her there as his body was rocked by powerful shudders.

Capturing his lips in a hard kiss, Uhura grasped his hair in her hands and held the kiss until their bodies no longer bucked with release. Slowly, she backed off and began a more tender, gentle kiss, rocking her hips in blissful afterglow. She grazed her lips over his cheeks and his still-closed eyes. He opened them at her touch and she was struck with the whimsy of Snow White awakening her Prince Charming. Both the smile and look he gave her were wanton.

"So, where did you go to Command School? If the Academy teaches this, I must have missed that day."

"Oh, I can't tell you…let's just say it was Advanced Training…only a select few are chosen for it." She purred between soft kisses to his mouth and neck. "I graduated with Honors." She whispered against his ear.

"And I'm extremely gratified you did, 'Captain' Uhura." He laughed, delight for the woman who still sat astride him shining in his eyes.

Suddenly overwhelmed by emotion, Uhura curled her body around him, tucking her head against his chest and under his chin, savoring the moment. She could hear his heart beat as it calmed itself down to its normal slow rhythm. Sensing her need for closeness, Kirk wrapped his arms around her and she felt him kiss the top of her head. He held her like that for a long time, eventually sliding her off to tuck in neatly against his side. Exhausted from the previous late nights and the non-stop dancing at the Ball, they drifted off to sleep together.

***

TBC

~ID'ic

Healing Touch Chapter 8 K/U [NC-17]

2010-03-09T20:55:00.002-06:00

Image: Manip by moi.

Disclaimer: Paramount owns Star Trek. I only own my fantasies.

Beta: Sincere gratitude goes to: Nyotava, Bandicca, Zapp and Trekskitten for such wonderful betaing! Each of them brought fresh insight and used their unique expertise to make this story a reality.

Summary: A sequel to "My Faith in You," addressing Uhura's recovery from a brutal attack and the depths of Kirk's commitment to keep her in his world.

~~~

He felt himself being drawn inexorably toward the peak…the crest of emotions so strong he was helpless as they engulfed him, carried him away like so much flotsam in their mad rush to the surface. Each wave carried him further along, buffeting him in ignorance, lost in the nature of what it was. Pummeling him once, twice, and then a third time, before erupting in exquisite release.

Spock bolted upright in his bed, a strangled cry torn from his throat as he gasped for air. He flung the sticky sheet off himself and leaned forward, masking his face with his hands. Using what meager control he still possessed, he calmed his breathing and tried to focus his thoughts and emotions, his and those of others that were only now fading from his mind. The others who had conquered him in sleep and held him captive as they raced toward ecstasy.

The Vulcan had no doubt who had invaded his subconscious; the texture of their touch was familiar and wholly human. He reached out in his mind and tried to sense if they still lingered, but he felt no one. The touch had been brief, but intense, far too intense for him to fight. Instead, he had been a prisoner to the intertwining of the two he had inadvertently locked together with a meld. Trapped by their desires and the desire to escape the shadowy fixation between them, he had merely been the uninvolved conduit of their merging both mentally, and to his dismay now, physically.

Spock rose from the bed and stripped the sheets, throwing them and their contents into the recycler. He turned on the shower--water, not sonics--and willed it to wash away the voyeurism he felt. How had this happened? Nothing in his research had warned him of a risk of the 'bridge' mind being involved in a fixation resolution. He hoped it was resolved, he prayed it was resolved, he could not withstand another onslaught of such deep and erotic emotions pouring into him from somewhere outside of a bond. He had failed to control his own body tonight, it had succumbed to the emotions that had assailed him and reacted as any male would. His face burned in embarrassment and shame as he remembered the release that had spewed out of him, in unison with those on the planet.

He leaned against the shower wall and let the water pound his shoulders, trying to erase the images seared into his mind. Images of bodies locked in a primal dance, fevered lips scorching skin as they moved over mahogany flesh, flesh he wanted to explore. The feel of long nails raking along his sides and back. No, not his, but it might as well have been, the touch was just as real as if he had the welts to prove it. The memory of instinctive urges to thrust and possess what had been denied for so long. He turned his face into the water, illogically hoping it would wash the craving from his consciousness. He chose not to question whose desire he wished away, his or theirs.

His only solace was that he had sensed no awareness from either of them that they had been in contact with him. He could bear his shame so long as he was the only one who knew. If they were cognizant of it as well, he would not be able to face them ever again.

How had he failed so completely? He had studied the meld technique diligently. He had entered her mind stealthily and erased the alien-made terrors constructed there. His only error was in leaving before he broke the contact between the humans, his attempt to allow them a moment of privacy they could never know in the physical world. While he recognized it, he had not considered their attraction to each other as a factor impacting the outcome. Now, much too late, he saw his error. Now he paid a price, not nearly as enduring as the price they would pay, but in some ways more so. As a Vulcan with an eidetic memory, these feelings would not fade with time; they would stay as fresh and fevered as tonight.

Realizing the futility of his efforts, Spock turned off the water and dressed in one of his meditation robes. There would be no more sleep tonight. Walking past the damning evidence of his stripped bed, the Vulcan kneeled before the fire pot and sprinkled it with incense. He settled into the first state of meditation and waited for the trembling in his body and mind to stop, echoes of their passion still affecting him physically. It was a long wait.

***

Uhura awoke from a sleep so deep it might have been a coma. She lay in the bed, unmoving, assessing her surroundings. Kirk was no longer in the bed beside her. She turned her head and saw him sitting at the table on the balcony, reviewing something on a data padd. A platter of fruit and breads was in the middle of the table, along with a pot of coffee. Uhura stared at his profile, watching and looking for any clues to his mood. She knew she felt wonderful, but was cautious not to transfer those feelings to him.

Wait--she did feel wonderful! No, not just the residual high one got from a night of great sex, but instead, she felt so alive! Yes--alive, whole, complete, content--as if she really had awakened from a three-month coma and found her old self once again--the person she had been before Bengali. No--wait--since the meld! That was it! Uhura's mind raced with the epiphany. She had assumed, just like Doctor McCoy, that all her issues stemmed from her rape, but now she believed there was more to it than that. Yes, the rape had traumatized her in ways she was still recognizing, but the sense of loss and isolation was not there until after the meld.

When she had been trapped in her terror attacks, Kirk's presence had been her only link with sanity. The tiny world he had created for just the two of them was her only refuge from the chaos constructed in her mind by the Orions. The meld had intensified those feelings, gave her hope and overwhelmed her with an outpouring of love and desire. Then it was gone, and it took all her feelings of joy, love and contentment with it. Now, she realized what she had been seeking was that part of her soul--and she had found it. Uhura did not understand how she knew, but it seemed as if she and Kirk had taken a part of each other when the meld was dissolved and had given it back last night as they made love.

Jim must have been affected too; she recalled how quiet and sad he had been after the meld, sitting silently by her side. The past months had found him restless and agitated, unable to keep the stress from bubbling to the surface. Now it was obvious, but then she had thought only she had felt the aloneness. She remembered the tender kiss he had placed on her cheek, a simple gesture that had left her feeling more unsettled, more desolate.

Did he recognize the reason for it? She did not think so. She remembered how he had struggled in the meld between his desire for her and his belief that it was wrong. For a brief moment, he had taken possession of her emotionally, but quickly backed away; it had scared him to want her so badly. It had scared her too; his intensity was scorching.

Uhura knew she would get no answers from the comfort of their bed. She moved to the foot of it and retrieved her gown and robe. She ached from their night of lovemaking, but smiled with the memories each twinge evoked. She slipped into her gown, thinking of how nervous she had been when she took it off last night. The intimacy no longer intimidated her, but going out to greet him gave her butterflies. Would it be awkward? With the coming of dawn, would he regret their night together? Did he feel as different as she did this morning?

Kirk looked up as she neared the doorway. Uhura finished tying her robe and stepped out onto the balcony, attempting to smile as brightly as the morning sun that was shining down on them. Kirk returned her smile, melting away her fears with just as much warmth, making her feel at ease--everything would be okay.

"Good morning. You got up early."

"Old habits--I always wake up early. You were sleeping so peacefully, I thought I would come out here and let you finish your nap."

"Ah, I haven't slept that well in months, and it's all your fault." Uhura laughed as she kissed him lightly before sitting down at the table with him.

Kirk waggled his brows as he fought to control the smirk that was trying to invade his grin.

"Why thank you. You won't mind if I don't apologize for it, will you?" He inquired drolly as he poured her some coffee.

"Hardly, I would be more offended if you tried," she bantered back, noticing his mood seemed to be as good as hers, no hesitancy or awkwardness on his part.

Uhura sipped her coffee and enjoyed, for the moment, being the center of his attention.

"Jim, do you feel…different this morning?" She asked, unsure how she would react if he said 'no'. "Do you feel whole--complete?" Uhura prompted.

"Complete? Yes…complete describes it. Something I haven't felt for a long time now." He nodded his head, latching onto the word with conviction to describe his feelings.

"Say, like the last three months--since the meld?" She watched him intently, reading the realization on his face before he spoke.

"Yes!" He answered excitedly. "Since the meld! I thought it was just me, my reaction to your injury--to almost losing you. But you're right, I have been empty and angry, searching for something and no idea what or why. How did you figure this out?"

"I don't know. This morning I just felt like my old self and I realized that most of my issues seemed linked to the meld rather than Bengali. When you parted from me in the meld, I felt so alone…hollow. I wanted to tell you that, when I asked you to stay for a moment, but I didn't know how to express it then or what you would have done if I had."

Kirk dropped his eyes for a moment, she sensed he was uncomfortable with that last part. Would he have done anything? She didn't think she would like the answer to that question.

"Do you think Spock had any idea what was happening with us?" It was an obvious question to ask since he was the third party to the meld.

A ripple of emotions flashed across Kirk's face before he schooled it into neutrality.

"Possibly, though he did not share anything with me."

Uhura sensed that oversight would be addressed once they beamed back aboard. She did not envy Spock when Kirk broached the topic with him--and she knew he would. Uhura was not angry with the telepath if he had suspected something, she was just thankful to be back to normal.

"I'm sure if he did, he would have discussed it with you." She decided a little preliminary smoothing of the waters might be a good thing. The look she got back could be called skeptical at best.

"Well, regardless, we both seem to be back to normal. Whatever the reason for our problems, or their resolution, we should be happy for that." Uhura reached out and placed her hand on his, squeezing it, trying to get him past the tenseness her question about Spock had summoned.

Kirk sat back, but captured her hand in his, stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. He let out a soft sigh before giving her a resigned smile.

"You're right, of course, and I am happy for that. I just don't like mysteries, especially when--no, never mind, you're right."

Uhura heard him say it, but she did not think he intended to let it drop, just postpone it for awhile. At that moment, his communicator chirped and he glanced at her before flipping it open.

"Kirk here."

"Spock here, Captain. I called to inform you that twelve more Potakai warbirds have entered orbit during the night. That brings the total to three hundred ninety-seven. The planetary news sources are advising the population to remain calm and that the Warriors are arriving to conduct a ritual as part of the Ascendancy Ceremonies. The universal translator is having some difficulty; the Potakai dialect used in religious and formal situations sounds markedly different than the one used in everyday conversation."

"That's true Spock; we've had to deal with some of that down here too." Kirk seemed to let go of the earlier topic and focus on the news his First Officer reported.

Both he and Uhura sat up straighter, eager to hear more of the Vulcan's report.

"It would appear the Warriors are preparing to commit some type of ritual suicide. Their precise reasoning I have yet to ascertain."

"That's correct, Spock. The Dowager told me of it herself. With the war over, they feel they no longer serve a purpose. If they live, the chance of war starting again is extremely high."

Uhura cast a look his way. She wanted to be mad that he had known and kept the information to himself, but she had found out from Lilu'ka and had yet to share it with him. Neither of them was doing a good job in the debriefing role. She vowed to remedy that.

"That is unfortunate, Captain. Logically, peace should stop the loss of life, not condemn so many to death."

"Agreed, Spock, but the Potakai are trapped by their biological imprinting. They have no choice but to follow it." Kirk's tone was sad, Uhura could see the same pain on his face that she felt in her heart about what was to come.

"Biological imperatives are often severe, please offer the Dowager my regrets."

"I will, Spock. Keep me posted if more ships come in and keep all scanners passive but active. I don't want any trouble with someone who feels like they have nothing left to lose. I'll check back in with you later. Kirk out."

"Affirmative, Captain. Enterprise out."

Uhura had remained silent during their exchange, listening and watching the Captain and First Officer's interactions. It was hard to imagine Kirk had just been questioning Spock's knowledge of their predicament before the call from him. She had no doubt they would weather that discussion just fine when it happened.

Uhura stood and walked over to gaze out at the mauve sea. She heard Kirk leave the table and come stand beside her. She watched him for a moment before speaking, enjoying both sights--him and the sea. With effort, she turned her mind to their mission and the problem at hand.

"Captain, I think I can send a few tips to Lieutenant Palmer that may enhance the translator's abilities. Listening to all the different dialects and knowing when they are used has given me some ideas."

Kirk pulled back from his own thoughts and gave her a quick smile. "Great. I'm sure that would make them a bit calmer if they could understand all that is being said."

"Captain," Uhura pressed on, needing to confront him about what she suspected was really going on. "Lilu'ka told me of the Warriors’ fate yesterday. She was sad but matter-of-fact about it. I can't imagine so many deaths happening at once and it being sanctioned by this society as a whole. It seems so callous: 'thanks for saving our lives, now go away, we don't need you anymore'--"

Turning away from the sea, Kirk interrupted her. "Lieutenant, Anata'ka is not callous in her view of what is expected. She is consumed with worry and, to a degree, guilt over their fate."

"Captain…have you noticed a …familiarity…between Anata'ka and Chota'di, something more personal than their professional relationship? I saw something between them at the temple and she read my mind, but never answered. Her silence told me all I needed to know."

"I've sensed a closeness and a level of comfort between them. Why do you ask? Why is their relationship important?" Uhura saw that her seeming change of topic threw him for a moment.

"If the Warriors are biologically compelled to commit suicide, would not their leader be driven to do so as well? Won't Chota'di be just as compelled to kill himself? If Anata'ka is in love with Chota'di, then wouldn't she risk everything to change his fate…to protect him?" Uhura drew a calming breath before she pushed on to what she really wanted to know.

"Captain, what did Anata'ka say to you in your private audience with her? Why did she really request you to represent the Federation? She has a plan to stop this doesn't she? It involves you somehow, doesn't it?"

Kirk's expression shut down; he hid behind his mask of command and Uhura knew she was right.

"Lieutenant, I'm not able to answer that."

For a brief moment Uhura saw pain flash in his eyes. Pain that he had to keep her out of his confidence. His answer told her enough, a truth couched in a denial.

"You don't have to, sir. I know it's true. You don't request somebody from half way across the galaxy on a whim. But I'm scared...for you. Something of this magnitude has to be dangerous, and Starfleet has just thrown you into it. If Anata'ka is working from personal motivations to save Chota'di, then she will risk a great deal. Please be careful, I can't bear the thought of losing you either."

"Lieutenant...Penda...I'm well aware of how emotions can influence one's decisions." His switch from her title to her name made Uhura mindful of what decision he was meaning, and it was partly because she knew he was distracted by her that she worried all the more.

"And do you regret any of the ones you've made because of emotional involvement?" She had to ask, she had to know if he regretted last night.

"Nothing recent comes to mind." He said with a ghost of a smile dancing across his face.

He pulled her to him and kissed her lightly, then more forcefully. Uhura placed her arms around his neck and pulled him down to her with just as much passion. Somewhere, in the recesses of her mind, she knew he was attempting to distract her from the issue. For the moment, she let him. He broke the kiss but still held her close, moving his lips to rest against the top of her brow.

"I have more trade talks today. I don't want more trade talks today. They will all be re-negotiated anyway once a real ambassador is named. No, today I want to tour the city, get outside these walls and get a sense of how the general population is feeling about all of this. I want to go somewhere unplanned, see everyday Potakai."

"How do you intend to do that?" Uhura asked, pulling back to look at him. She knew he already had an idea; it was all over his face.

"I want to go... house-hunting...you know, find a great location for the future Federation embassy."

"Ahhh...hmmm...do you have the authority to make such a decision?" She looked askance as he released her and slowly walked toward the bedroom door.

"About as much as I do to negotiate trade. Uhura, I'm a paper tiger in this role; my sole purpose is to keep Anata'ka happy and strengthen our relationship with Ramsha'ka. Anything else will be for the future ambassador to deal with. They, however, don't know that, so I intend to use it to our advantage."

***

This suite of offices was just as ornate as the other five they had visited all over the city. Kirk allowed Mek'ka to give him the grand tour as if his whole reason on this mission was to peruse Potakai real estate for the future Federation Embassy. The young Third Deputy Prime Minister's Assistant certainly considered it of prime importance. He took his sudden assignment as a show of confidence in his abilities.

Uhura lingered back, staying in the front room, and looked out through the balcony doors. The street was awash with Potakai going about their daily lives. Several clusters of Warriors were standing guard along the thoroughfare, but for the most part, the citizens ignored them, seemingly immune to their presence. This was basically the same behavior they had observed throughout the city; the Warriors more involved with themselves than the citizenry. If the regular Potakai showed any concern, it was from the sheer number of Warriors that were present.

"If the Ambassador wanted a tour of the city, I'm sure one could have been arranged--had he asked."

Chota'di stepped up silently to Uhura and spoke to her for the first time since they had begun this excursion. He did not seem pleased that Anata'ka had demoted him to escort service. He had stayed in the background, allowing the excitable Mek'ka to do all the talking.

"I'm sure, General, but we really must advise our Diplomatic Corps of acceptable embassy sites." Uhura smiled her most charming smile at the solemn Warrior.

"The Ambassador scouts the city like a Warrior, not a diplomat. These buildings, like several of the others we've visited today, are much too far from the Palace to be of use as an embassy. Instead, he searches the high ground, the port, the business district and now the transportation center, looking for our strengths and weaknesses."

His bright yellow eyes flashed from Uhura back toward Kirk's figure down the hall. His look was keen and measuring.

"Anata'ka says we have much in common, the Ambassador and I, but I find him confusing. If he were a real Aristocrat, I would sense either a challenge for leadership or an acceptance of Anata'ka's dominion. Instead, I sense a Warrior who chooses not to fight, yet his tactics tell me he studies us for opportunity."

"General," Uhura turned and faced the tall Warrior, "Ambassador Kirk has no interest in conquering the Potakai people. What you are sensing is his curiosity about your culture and way of life. The Ambassador is a soldier in many ways, but he never sees violence as the only way to resolve a conflict. In our world, Ambassador Kirk is primarily an explorer for the Federation."

Chota'di looked down at Uhura, studying her with the same measured look he had fixed on Kirk a moment before.

"That is what Anata'ka calls him as well, an explorer. Why does one explore but to ensure that home is safe from potential enemies?"

"Or perhaps to find a new friend? Is it not possible that could make the search worthwhile? To find other cultures that would welcome you just as the Federation has." Uhura challenged softly, knowing it would go against all his instincts to consider her rationale.

"Those are decisions outside my province, but it has given me something to consider. Many of your ideas are strange and require reflection." He dropped his crest slightly to show she had made her point.

Chota'di looked up as Kirk and Mek'ka walked back down the hall, apparently finished with this tour as well. His expression became implacable and his crest was once again held erect. Uhura sighed; she had hoped to have gotten through to him that Kirk wasn't his enemy. Unfortunately, in this hierarchical society, two personages of equal stature would always create contention between themselves until one came out on top. Kirk did not even seem to notice how his easy confidence rankled Chota'di, though she was sure he was quite aware of it. Uhura just hoped it didn't get him killed.

***

TBC

~ID'ic

Healing Touch Chapter 7 K/U [NC-17]

2010-03-06T13:43:00.002-06:00

Image: Oh my, where I search the 'Net for your viewing pleasure...

Disclaimer: Paramount owns Star Trek. I only own my fantasies.

Beta: Sincere gratitude goes to: Nyotava, Bandicca, Zapp and Trekskitten for such wonderful betaing! Each of them brought fresh insight and used their unique expertise to make this story a reality.

Summary: A sequel to "My Faith in You," addressing Uhura's recovery from a brutal attack and the depths of Kirk's commitment to keep her in his world.

~~~~

The dinner had been an elaborate affair, even by Potakai standards. Uhura was stuffed and she had hardly sampled all the dishes that had been prepared. As the meal concluded, conversations sprang up amongst the guests in pockets of twos and threes. Some guests moved around the tables, seeking to interact with many. Uhura had been describing what it was like at the Academy to a young Aristocrat when Anata'ka spoke softly in her mind.

/Nyota, I do not wish to alarm you, but Kesh'ka is growing too bold in her interaction with the Ambassador. If you do not protest soon, she will consider that you accept her as a concubine. She thinks you and Zhames are pair-bonded, and as such, share a mental connection. Kesh'ka is from a minor house and has strong ambitions to improve their standing. An affiliation with the Federation Ambassador would do much toward this. /

Uhura looked around the room, trying to appear casual. She spotted Kirk standing against the wall, a tall, beautiful Potakai female--did they come in any other flavor? --practically laying on him. He did not look troubled by his predicament, which caused Uhura's temper to throttle up just a bit.

/ Excuse yourself from Tera'ka and intercede, or you will have a guest in your bed tonight. I see Human males are no smarter about females than Potakai males. He does not realize how far-ranging her plans are; he thinks her a harmless flirt. /

Uhura smiled to her young companion and made up an excuse to leave. She hoped it made sense, because she really could not remember what she had said. As she approached the errant couple, Uhura could see that Kirk was still leaning against the wall, his hands behind his back, acting as a cushion between his back and the wall. Well, she thought, at least his posture did not present as if he was being the aggressor in this conversation.

/ No, he is not, Nyota. Do not be angry with him, he is just male. He has no intentions toward Kesh'ka, but she does not know that. A Potakai male would have rebuffed her immediately if he was not interested; hurting her feelings would not have been a consideration. /

Uhura was within arms reach of Kirk and stopped, leaning in slightly and speaking softly to the interloper.

"Excuse me, Kesh'ka isn't it? Well, Kesh'ka, let me just say we won't be needing your services tonight, or any other night, thank you. The Ambassador has quite enough woman in me to keep him entertained. Jim, will you join me back at our table? I grow lonely in your absence." The extra fluttering of her eyelashes was Uhura's natural defense against the surprised, and then appraising, look he gave her.

"I'd love to, Penda. Excuse us, Kesh'ka. Thank you for the offer, I think." A chastised smile was tossed into the last remark.

"What was that all about?" He asked quietly as they neared their table.

"Anata'ka said you were about to make a political faux pas. Kesh'ka was attempting to sleep her way to the top." Uhura replied more calmly than she felt--'quite enough woman'--Please!

"Ah, well, thank you for the save." He whispered in her ear as he helped Uhura into her chair. "I do have other interests tonight."

Uhura fluttered her eyelashes once again; it was becoming quite a good cover. Though the smirk that answered her coyness told her that he was catching on quickly.

Ramsha'ka called for everyone's attention and announced the night's entertainment: a musical history of Potakai culture from their dawning to the present. However, it wasn't just music, there were dancers and entertainers of all sorts. It would provide a lively history lesson for their Federation guests. Uhura grinned at Kirk; this would be far better than any dry Federation analysis.

***

The entertainment was proving to be everything she wanted it to be, but Uhura still found her mind drifting. What would be expected of her when they returned to their apartments was encroaching on the festivities. No, she thought, what she expected of herself was demanding attention. She was the one who had planned tonight's resolution, not Jim. If she asked for an extension, she knew he would understand, but it would only risk her chance of staying on Enterprise.

Everything since last night was a jumble in her head. Waking to him and his easy tenderness--she could become addicted to that with just one exposure. Discovering what awaited so many Warriors and suspecting Anata'ka was planning something with Kirk to affect it. She had yet to be able to ask him about it. Upon their return from the temple, they had found several Potakai dignitaries waiting to follow up on their morning council conversation with the Ambassador. Kirk's meeting had lasted until just before their dinner. In fact, he used that as an excuse to beg off more discussions. Trade appeared to be a prickly subject.

It was even more unexpected when Kirk had asked her to call Spock and give him their mission update. She had kept her own logs and filed her own reports with the ship, but Kirk seldom delegated his contact with Spock. If the First Officer was surprised, he failed to show it. Instead, he seemed quite interested in her perspective of their situation, asking many questions about her interactions with the Potakai.

The ritual had also been more than she had expected. It was not every day you were purified by fire and water. Catching that look of interest between Anata'ka and Chota'di had sent her mind on a mission to re-examine what she had experienced up to then. Again, she had not had the opportunity to share her insight with Kirk, and was unsure if he would accept her woman's intuition on this point. She knew he trusted his own intuition, but he was very demanding of facts from others.

And so what if Anata'ka was attached to Chota'di, did that really mean anything? Uhura did not know, but until she understood what Anata'ka and Kirk had discussed, she would not rule it out. The fact that the Empress remained silent on the topic was a statement in and of itself.

Motives were always at question when the stakes were high. Kirk's safety was paramount in her mind. She knew he would risk himself if he thought the outcome warranted it. Usually, he was right, but sometimes it had cost him dearly. Uhura did not want anything to happen to him on her watch. She intended to bring him back in one piece from this mission.

And now, with the dinner drawing to a close, it became time to address another mission. A much more personal one, with stakes far higher than she wanted to acknowledge. How did she meet this challenge? Sex was one of her favorite pastimes and something at which she had considered herself to be quite skilled. But that was before--before she had been stripped of all control and used like no sentient being should ever be used, before she been abused in so heinous a fashion that the mere memory of Orion hands touching her sent waves of nausea through Uhura. The memories of their other trespasses did far worse. Yet now, she risked far more than bad memories if she did not break their hold upon her. She risked losing everything she loved in life if she could not smother that fear and let someone be close to her again.

Physically or emotionally, Uhura knew it was really the same. To allow someone to touch you physically meant a lowering of emotional barriers, and to lower those barriers one had to trust. Now, that was the question. Could she trust again? On a deep and meaningful level, could she allow another soul to enter? She had thought that question answered when Spock and Kirk had helped her in the meld--surely she had trusted them--but the pysch scan had argued differently. Apparently there was still one barrier blocking her return to normalcy: to unequivocally give herself, mind and body, to another.

Could she do it? Three months ago she would have laughed at the idea of being scared to sleep with James Kirk. Not that she had ever had anyone to ponder such thoughts with. Christine might share her fantasies, but Uhura did not. At least, not that fantasy, the one that had crept into her heart when she wasn't looking.

Strange, the forced intimacy she and Kirk had shared as Parmen's playthings had triggered it within her, the moment he became more than a commanding officer in her eyes. Something she had tried to keep hidden until the fear of losing him in the Tholian Incident had forced her to face it. Uhura was a realist; she did not expect a sudden declaration of love from him. Yet, coming so close to losing him and never having been brave enough to voice her interest was not something she would risk again.

She had tried to make it light--a quick kiss and a teasing flirt were all she had intended. However, her bravery had crumbled and she had ran before he had had time to respond. That had resulted in 'the talk'. The same one, or a variation thereof, that he had given Janice before he finally convinced her she was wasting her talents and needed to pursue a more challenging career. He had offered to recommend her for OCS, but she had declined, opting for an accelerated engineering program. She had told him she wasn't ready for that big of a jump yet, but might call him on it one day.

No one but Janice knew she knew about that conversation, and they never would. Janice had come to her, crushed and crying late one night. Something had happened between her and Kirk, nothing of any consequence, but he had finally told her he could not be what she wanted him to be. Janice had kept her composure during his speech and even agreed to do more with her opportunities, something he had badgered her about for months. But as soon as she had reached Uhura's quarters she had cried like a baby. She could not go to Sulu; he would not understand how she could profess a love for him but still be so enamored with the captain.

When Kirk had spoken to Uhura it amounted to the same, he cared but could not return the affection. Except, when he had told her how he felt, she had believed he was telling her the truth and not just something she wanted to hear. Perhaps it was wishful thinking on her part; a way to assuage bruised pride. It had certainly seemed real in the meld. His caring was real there. So much seemed tied to that meld, her salvation and their damnation. Had it been the trauma of nearly losing her that had made him feel it too? A kindred sense of loss, resulting in a kindred sense of longing?

She did not know and time was not waiting for her to discover the answer. Or maybe it had, perhaps the last three months were just filler, waiting for this mission, the one brief moment in their lives when they could actually connect with each other. Tonight she would remember who she had been and fight to be that person again. She would trust with her heart and her body and wake up whole again. If anyone could make her so again, she knew it was Jim.

Oh? The music was finishing and the guests were chirping in a singsong voice, the Potakai equivalent of applause. She looked over and saw Kirk smiling at her, clapping in Human fashion.

"I'll leave the chirping to you, Penda, if you don't mind. I can't do that any better than I can sing. However, I can applaud."

***

The dinner was over and Pahzj had tucked them back safely in their apartments. It was very late and everyone else seemed to have retired for the night. Kirk checked in with Spock as soon as they were alone and Uhura used this as an opportunity to change into something more seductive. Actually, that was a challenge, as her dress that evening had been extremely revealing. Yet, somehow, she thought the tatted lace gown she selected would suffice. The possibility of tonight had been her sole reason for packing it.

Slowly, she took down her hair, draping it around her shoulders in the style she knew he liked, brushing it thoroughly until it shone with its own inner light. She debated about removing her makeup but decided to leave that little bit of confidence in place. She slipped on her robe and spritzed herself with a final mist of perfume, drawing her courage around her as tightly as she had tied the sash of her robe.

Walking into the common area, Uhura saw that the lights were again low, a slightly brighter glow coming from Kirk's room. She drew a deep breath and made her way to the entrance. He was there, standing at the balcony doors. He turned at her movement and smiled invitingly.

"I thought you might have changed your mind. Would you like a night cap?" He moved to pour them a drink without waiting for her response.

'Nerves, he's nervous about this too' Uhura thought to herself.

"I'd love one, Jim." She found her voice was soft and seductive.

"I'm not running anymore. I told you I wanted my life back." Her eyes took in his image--bare chest, silk loungers seated low over his hips, tousled hair, long lashes and that enticing smile--the sight of him caused a transformation in her. Timidity was being pushed aside and the real Uhura was beginning to make herself known again.

"I'm glad you decided to fight for this, Penda. I don't want to lose you." He offered her the drink and stayed in close.

"I don't want to lose you either. My world is the Enterprise, and the Enterprise is you. That sounds silly, but it's as close as I can translate what you both mean to me." She looked up into his serious eyes before taking a sip of her drink.

"No, Penda, it’s not silly. If anything, you just expressed my relationship with you both in one sentence. My ship is my life and my crew is hers. They're inseparable and I can't be happy without them both." He broke her gaze for a moment and stared into nothingness. His tone was soft, but slightly bitter as he continued.

"I'm not supposed to put a face on the crew--not supposed to grow attached--but that's what makes a great team, and is also its curse. When I lose one of you, it's my responsibility. It's harder when I remember the smile… when I remember the shared joke in the mess hall…remember seeing the holopics of family back home. Those take a toll and make it harder to let others in."

He tossed back his drink and set his glass back on the table before reaching up to cup her chin, making her look him in the eyes and hear his words.

"Penda, I want to make love to you tonight... I *do* love you, and that's forever, but I can't fall *in love* with you. We've discussed the reasons before and they're still the same, but I can't sleep with you tonight if I don't say this again. You mean more to me than is safe, or healthy, for two who serve together. I want you with me, but more importantly, I want you to be happy. If that's always by my side, I think I can handle that. If you ever want to explore other opportunities, I'll support and recommend you in any way I can."

His touch became a caress against her cheek; his voice carried a hint of sadness.

"But I don't want you to stay on Enterprise just because of me, and if tonight changes anything, I can't let it go on. You have your dreams and I don't want you to lose sight of them for something that can never be realized. Years from now, I don't want you resenting or hating me for it."

Uhura found herself divested of her drink. He had both her hands captured in his own and she felt as if he were trying to channel his thoughts to her as much as express them.

"There are many possibilities for companionship onboard for you, but I'm not one of them. When this mission is over, so is what we will share here. Tonight is about rebuilding trust, and trust is built on honesty. I will always be honest with you Penda, and I need you to be honest with me, tonight and always. I don't mean to sound cold; I just need you to understand my feelings. You wouldn't respect any other decision I could make."

He leaned down and kissed her softly on the lips.

'Oh, why did he have to bring honor into this?' She thought. It was the one thing she admired about him that would always get in the way of what she craved. Uhura kissed him back, but kept it tender. She knew she had to answer him before he would allow it to escalate.

"If we're being honest, I need to confess that I'd be willing to try and respect something a little more long term." She tried to soften the seriousness of his gaze with her attempt at humor; however, his look did not waver.

"I know--you're right," she sighed, and stroked his cheek as he still held her in his arms, "but it doesn't mean I have to like it. Ever since Platonius, I've wanted you, and even what happened to me on Bengali hasn't changed that." Uhura noticed a look of shock cross his face at her mention of Platonius.

"I know we wouldn't even be having this conversation if it weren't for that nightmare, but since it did happen, I can't say I'm sorry it’s worked out this way." She eased out of his arms; it was too perverse to discuss keeping her distance when she was ensconced in his embrace.

"It will be difficult at first--to go back to being just Captain and Lieutenant--but if that's all I can have, I'll learn to accept it. What is my alternative? Nothing. I lose you, Enterprise and all my dreams of being in space. This is my one chance to indulge my fantasies and keep living my dream. I would be crazy to tempt Fate and ask for more."

Uhura did not have to confess to him that she felt just a bit crazy at the moment. She stopped and looked into his eyes, waiting to see if he would accept her answer.

Kirk's gaze softened and a suggestive grin tugged at the corners of his mouth as he stepped in close and took her by the shoulders.

"No Penda, it won't be easy, for either of us, but we can worry about that--later." He leaned down and kissed her softly once again, but this time he didn't pull away. He increased the pressure on her lips and Uhura opened to his demand. She felt his tongue dance with hers. As he retreated, she nipped his lower lip and he smiled at her response.

Then his face became more deliberate and intense. He reached out and slowly pulled the sash of Uhura's closed robe, keeping his eyes locked with hers and gently pushing it off her shoulders. Tonight he let it fall at her feet, forgotten in favor of what he still had before him.

Uhura felt his eyes roam over her body, searing her skin where they traveled. Her heart was racing and her chest felt tight; it was no longer just a tease, no longer a fantasy. The reality of what was happening punched her in the stomach and she had to fight back the desire to run. No! She wanted this--he was *her* choice. This was what she needed. Uhura pushed the panic down; it wasn't gone but it was at bay. She took a deep breath and let herself enjoy his gaze.

At her sigh, Kirk looked up and scrutinized her face. She knew he sensed her unease and wondered if she was she able to go on. She smiled at him; it was shaky but sincere.

Uhura watched as Kirk pulled one strap and then the other of her gown off her shoulders, leaving them bare. She became lost in the feeling of his fingers brushing down each side of her throat, then down her shoulders, hypnotized by the touch of his lips against the nape of her neck. His warm breath sent chill bumps all over her body as it caressed her ear, his hands wandering over her skin, seeking to memorize each place that quivered under his graze.

When he stopped, a soft whimper escaped her lips. He reached down and unzipped the back of her gown, the only way to peel the tight bodice away from her breasts. Yet, he did not remove the gown, instead, he stepped back a pace or two, until he could see her whole body.

"Take off your gown for me, Penda. Stand there and let me see how beautiful you are." He whispered in a husky voice.

Uhura let the gown fall to the floor, allowing it to keep company with the forgotten robe. A part of her wanted to melt into the floor as well, but she drew herself up and stood defiantly in front of him, pushing the confused embarrassment out of her mind. Why should she want to hide from him? She knew she had a beautiful body; long hours in the gym kept it taut and toned. She used to enjoy a man's appraisal of her form, at least those she invited. Uhura looked into Kirk's face and saw appreciation and desire for her.

He moved toward her, still slowly running his eyes over her naked form. He captured her in his arms and began to use his hands against her flesh, touching places she wanted him to feel. He stroked her back and the mounds of her hips and cheeks. Pulling her close, he again took possession of her mouth. Still being devoured by his kisses, she felt his hands glide to her waist and then continue to her breasts. He rubbed each sensually and massaged her nipples until they hurt with need.

Jim began to push her toward the bed and Uhura felt the edge of it against the back of her knees. Trapped between the softness of its invitation and the hardness of his body pressing into her, she sat, but did not allow him to follow her down. He tendered one more sweet kiss on her lips before he straightened, and let her take control.

Uhura gave him a seductive smile at his surrender and ran her hands over his chest. She moved slowly, changing the pressure from a firm grasp against his nipples to a wickedly delicate raking of her nails against his flanks. Again, his muscles rippled under her touch, sent into spasm by her tender torture. He grabbed her hands, holding them against further mischief.

"Don't tickle." He scolded in a raspy voice, but the reproach did little to hinder her. Instead, she pulled her hands away and moved to the tie of his silk loungers and began to pull it.

"I think you're over-dressed." Uhura murmured as she continued loosening the knot. She reached into the waistband and began to peel away the last layer separating them. She did not do it quickly; she moved her hands in slow deliberate motions, easing the soft material off his hips and freeing his seeking erection from the sudden confines of the garment.

All fear was gone from Uhura now. Once she had her hand around him, stroking him and reveling in his soft moans, she remembered the ecstasy of sharing herself. She leaned in and allowed her hot breath to dance across him, pushing the pants down and away from what she sought. She grabbed his firm cheeks and pinched before raking her nails possessively across them and down his thighs. Kirk leaned into her, silently begging for more and she obliged. Her mouth found his sensitive head, running her tongue teasingly around it before wrapping around his shaft and gently running her teeth along its full length. She felt his fingers lock into her hair, then relax and stroke through the softness.

With a growl, he reached under her arms and drew her with him into the bed. Once again taking control, his hands captured hers and pulled them over her head while he kissed her lips, throat and breasts. Uhura gave herself over to the sensations he evoked, lost herself in the feel of his hands and mouth as they discovered her body.

She moved and moaned as his hand dropped low and began to explore, his fingers gently easing into her wetness. Even as excited as she was, Uhura knew she was tight, too tight yet to enjoy what was to come. Thanks to McCoy's skill as a surgeon, she was a virgin once again.

Jim's hands continued to explore as his mouth consumed her breasts, apparently unable to select a favorite. His fingers seemed to know all of her secrets, they moved into her with a rhythm she found undeniable. The rhythm began to take control and pull her higher and higher; she writhed under his touch, craving release. He stroked her tense bud and she cried out in pleasure, grinding in spasms of delight against his hand as he smothered her mouth with his.

When she could breathe again, she looked up into his eyes and saw a tender smile warring with a look of self-satisfaction. Uhura pulled him down to her and tried to kiss the smirk off his face. She had little success.

He pulled away and began to dapple kisses down her body, not stopping until he had pushed her legs apart and made himself comfortable between them. He looked up at her, a playful glint in his eyes, then leaned down and tasted her. Uhura moaned in anticipation as his tongue darted into her and traced enigmatic patterns. He cast another spell and quickly pushed her back up to the heights she had so recently descended. His teeth gently took her center and pulled while he sucked and drew her over the edge. The second surrender was more devastating than the first. Uhura shuddered and bucked hard against him, the weight of his shoulders the only thing keeping her on the bed. She gasped as her body heaved in climax.

Trailing soft kisses along her belly and breasts, Jim worked his way back up to Uhura's mouth. She could taste herself on his lips and it excited her even more. Uhura moved her hands down along his taut flanks, then reached to caress the hardness she found between their bodies. The caress became a strong, encircling grasp that stroked from the base and ended at the slightly moist tip. She rubbed her palm against the moistness and felt him shudder under her touch.

Suddenly, Jim pulled himself away and pushed her legs apart with his knee, making room for his hips and positioning his erection at her entrance. Uhura felt the tip touch her wet cleft and she moved her legs, locking them around his, pulling him closer. Still holding his weight on his arms, Kirk hesitated, looking deep into Uhura's eyes. She was not capable of denying him anything; she thrust her hips, trying to impale herself upon him.

Slowly, he lowered his arms, capturing her mouth as he pushed his way into her. He took his sweet torturous time. Uhura moaned under him, his gentle invasion driving her crazy. She wanted to feel him all the way inside her, thrusting hard and filling her past her limits. She knew he was trying not to hurt her, trying not to awaken bad memories, but Uhura could stand it no longer. She grabbed his cheeks and pulled him all the way in. There was pain, but it was good. He filled her and she nearly came again.

Jim slid his arms under her shoulders and cradled her head in his hands. He rocked gently against her, and Uhura luxuriated in the sensation of each long stroke. She lost herself in his kisses on her lips, along her temple and against her ear. Gradually, his pace quickened and the strokes became harder and deeper. Uhura rolled her hips and pulled her legs up, wrapping them around his back. His thrusts were driving now and she could feel herself building toward ecstasy again. She could tell he was nearing the edge himself and arched against him just a bit more, pulling him over the precipice with her.

He cried out as he thrust deeply one last time. Uhura shuddered, pulling him down into a deep kiss. Her head swirled as a wave of dizziness overcame her. She held him close and kept her eyes tightly shut, trying to hold herself and him still through the tiny aftershocks that shook the both of them. Jim had collapsed on top of her and she reveled in the feeling of intimacy his weight conferred. The dizziness started to pass and Uhura took a cleansing breath, hoping to hurry it along. Jim thought he was crushing her and tried to pull away.

"No, stay here a moment. I love how you feel against me." She whispered in his ear.

He answered with a kiss and a half-hearted thrust. "Mmmm...let me know when I get too heavy for you."

"Well, that might be never. I could go to sleep like this."

Much to her chagrin, he raised up on his elbows and looked down into her face.

"You probably could, but can I convince you to curl up against my side instead?"

"Maybe, if you'll wrap me in your arms. It's a poor substitute, but I'll try to work with you." She grinned up at him.

Jim laughed and moved off her. Flipping onto his back, he pulled her into his arms and nestled Uhura against his chest.

"Now, *I* can go to sleep like this." He sighed happily and gave her a gentle squeeze.

Still slightly missing her human blanket, Uhura pouted. "Ah--well, we know it's always all about you, don't we?" She tried to hide the grin his look provoked in her.

"Oh, really?" He questioned in mock indignation. He pulled her atop of him and held her there. "Let's see, we never do anything you want to do, right?"

Uhura lost her battle with the giggles and laughed out loud. Kirk wrapped her in his arms and hugged her tightly against him. He attempted to kiss her between giggles, but quickly gave up.

"I'll make you go to your own room if you don't stop." He tried to threaten.

That just provoked a new fit of laughter and he laid back his head and sighed. "That's me, always leave them laughing."

Another squeal of laughter escaped Uhura. Kirk just shook his head and pushed her back into the crook of his arm. Uhura buried her face against his side and laughed herself out. He held her close and waited for her to get control. It had been funny, but they both knew enough psychology to realize her giggles were more about de-stressing than real humor. She had conquered her fear and the intense relief was overwhelming.

As Uhura regained control of herself and could keep the laughter at bay, she raised up and looked into Jim's eyes. His look was curious, unsure if she was about to lose it again or attempting to speak.

"Jim, I'm sorry, please don't send me to my room." She grinned impishly, then kissed him before becoming more serious, locking her gaze with his.

"I didn't think I would ever feel the way you just made me feel again. You've given me back my life once more and I'll always love you for it."

"Penda, I would be lying if I said I'd never fantasized about a night like tonight. You've given me just as much in return."

He rolled over and trapped her beneath him, brushing her lips with his. Uhura looked up and stared into his eyes. She pulled her arms over her head, encouraging him to take possession of her body once more. He grasped her hands, easily holding her in place while she arched her back and pushed against him, begging to feel beautiful once again.

He hated to see her beg...

***

TBC

~ID'ic

Healing Touch Chapter 6 K/U [NC-17]

2010-03-02T20:55:00.003-06:00

Image manipped by moi. Aren't they PRECIOUS?!!

Disclaimer: Paramount owns Star Trek. I only own my fantasies.

Beta: Sincere gratitude goes to: Nyotava, Bandicca, Zapp and Trekskitten for such wonderful betaing! Each of them brought fresh insight and used their unique expertise to make this story a reality.

Summary: A sequel to "My Faith in You," addressing Uhura's recovery from a brutal attack and the depths of Kirk's commitment to keep her in his world.

~~~

Uhura awoke to the gray light of an overcast sky. She could not tell if it was just past dawn, or later in the morning. She found herself nestled against Kirk's chest, secure in the crook of his arm, her leg thrown across his hips. He was still asleep, his head tilted down toward her own. Uhura watched him sleep, mesmerized by how beautiful he was. Here in slumber, he looked so young and innocent, nothing like the intense and driven man she knew him to be.

She looked down at her dark hand that rested against his smooth chest; his slow, steady heartbeat could be felt against her palm. The contrast between her mahogany flesh and his golden tone was arousing. She moved her hand across his chest, enjoying the feel of the hard muscle underneath. She became aware of a different hardness where her leg rested across his hips; it sparked a quickening deep in her own groin. While he was asleep, she felt so brave. With his eyes closed, she was not frightened of his touch.

Last night he had offered himself as a way to keep her on the ship. She had been on the verge of giving up, but he would not allow her to do so. He was willing to break the one rule she knew he had always honored--the guardianship between commander and crew--to keep her in his world. How would he reconcile that abrogation once they were back on ship? Would he look at her and see failure in himself, or could she make him understand that, in this case, there was no failure except to lose each other? Would this morning find him regretful of making such a promise? She refused to believe that. Uhura knew he cared for her, if she had ever doubted that, the meld had erased those fears.

The meld, why did she sense so much revolved around that brief moment she shared with Spock and Kirk? She had been an emotional cripple when they had entered her mind and stripped the nightmares away, but somehow, she felt as if a vital part of her was missing when Spock claimed her cured. Uhura had seen that same haunted look in the Captain's eyes as he sat next to her on the bed. She had tried to talk to him, but words failed her, made her as silent as he had been.

Days had turned to weeks, and weeks had turned to months, and still she felt incomplete. Had they given each other a part of themselves that still struggled to find its way home? Was that why he haunted her thoughts night and day? Did the memory of his passion in the meld make her immune to desire for any other? Uhura didn't have those answers, but with his help, she felt she was on the way to finding them.

She had no idea how long she just stared at him, soaking up as much of his essence as she could. Uhura was thinking she could possibly watch him all day when a soft knocking came from the doorway. Pahzj and a young female Ménage padded in quietly, bearing a tray of something smelling suspiciously like coffee. The aroma hit Kirk and his eyes opened immediately. It took him a half-second to remember where he was. He looked down to where Uhura was curled against him and smiled warmly. She sensed no uneasiness from him; he appeared quite content.

"Good morning, Penda," he said softly, for the moment ignoring the other presences in the room. He bent down and kissed her gently on the lips.

"Good morning, Jim," Uhura smiled back while running her nails lightly along his side; she had been waiting patiently to do that.

Kirk's whole flank twitched, along with other parts of his anatomy buried under the covers. He reached down and captured her hand, holding it firmly in place. At the warning look he threw her way, Uhura immediately hid her smile. There was no look of contrition, but at least she stopped so he could greet the Potakai in their room.

"Good morning, Pahzj. Have we overslept?"

"Oh no, sir. You have plenty of time to prepare for the day. Nesz has brought you what we hope will be something familiar--a human beverage called coffee. Please let us know if we prepared it correctly. Potakai has nothing similar to compare except our many fine teas."

The Ménage gave no hint of surprise at finding the two humans together when they had left them retired to separate bedrooms the night before. In fact, that had probably seemed like the stranger situation; they were after all, ambassador and consort.

"Well, it smells wonderful, and that’s half the battle."

Uhura unwound herself from Kirk and pushed up in the bed; obviously the Potakai expected to serve them there. Kirk pushed himself up as well while Pahzj fussed over tying back the gauze curtains, straightening their covers and fluffing the pillows. Nesz busied herself pouring the coffee and then carefully handing each a delicate cup and saucer. Uhura watched as Kirk brought the cup up and savored the aroma. A soft, sensual "hmmm" escaped his lips. Next, he took a cautious sip, and then another, closing his eyes and letting the warmth diffuse its way through his body. When he opened his eyes he saw two Potakai watching him intently, holding their breaths awaiting his response.

"Pahzj, this is perfect. Nesz, you did a wonderful job." Kirk beamed at them each in turn.

Pahzj's shorn crest ruffled in happiness, and Nesz just stared at Kirk, a dreamy look etched on her face.

"Nesz, kia mahara ki to whanonga," Pahzj whispered something untranslatable softly, but firmly, to the young householder. She promptly turned violet and bowed before quickly leaving the room.

"I beg forgiveness, Ambassador. Sometimes the young forget their duty."

"And sometimes they just see something they like, Pahzj." Uhura laughed and it was Kirk's turn to blush--he had *just* smiled at her.

"As you say, Mistress. I assure you Nesz meant no disrespect." Pahzj bowed to the consort.

"None was taken, Pahzj; unfortunately, the Ambassador often provokes this reaction from young women." She grinned evilly in Kirk's direction.

"Pahzj, the Lady Uhura has awakened with a wicked sense of humor this morning. Please pay her no mind and please tell Nesz I am very flattered." Kirk smiled warmly to the elder Potakai then cast Uhura a pointed look.

"Yes, Ambassador. Shall I prepare breakfast?"

"Thank you, Pahzj, that would be excellent."

The householder bowed and left the room.

"Well Penda, you certainly woke up in a feisty mood. Feeling better about this, maybe?" Kirk asked as he sipped his coffee.

"I've decided I'm not ready to give up anymore. I want my life back. You and the Enterprise are what are important to me." Uhura did not know where that speech had come from, but it was the truth. She felt heat rise to her face from the confession.

Kirk sat his coffee down on the bedside table, then turned toward her, a more serious look on his face.

"Penda, you're very important to me and I don't want you to leave."

He leaned over and pressed a tender kiss against her lips, careful not to spill her coffee. Uhura kissed back, startled, but enjoying the new openness between them. Encouraged by her response, Kirk took the coffee out of her hands and leaned across her, placing it on the other bedside table. Uhura felt herself tense, excited as his body slid across hers. Now, unfettered from the risk of scalding, Kirk pulled her to him and began placing feather-light kisses along her jaw, slowly dropping to her collarbone while working his way to the cleft between her breasts.

Uhura felt her nipples go hard, the silk of her gown only enhancing them. Kirk's hand came up and lightly brushed against them, teasing through the material. Then, apparently not satisfied with the degree of torture that did to her, he leaned down further and nipped one, then held it between his teeth and tugged on it a little harder. The sensation shot a jolt of electricity through Uhura and forced a soft moan from her lips.

Kirk looked up at her sound, his eyes intense but playful. His expression told her he knew exactly how aroused she was. Meeting the challenge, Uhura slid her hand down and claimed acknowledgement of her own affect upon him. At her touch, his gaze became more intense; he leaned in and took possession of her mouth. Uhura tightened her grip on him and moved her hand to the rhythm of his seeking tongue.

A soft rapping on the door, accompanied by Pahzj's discreet announcement of breakfast being served, caused Kirk to throw himself onto his back, growling something unintelligible. Uhura pulled herself together, trying to think instead of staying lost in the bliss of the moment.

"Well, you told him it sounded like an excellent idea…" She reminded him none too gently.

"And it was, but something better came up." He shot her a wicked grin.

"Yes, it did," Uhura returned with her own mischievous smile, "but I guess we'll just have to continue this thought later."

Kirk sighed and rolled out of bed, walking over to get their robes. Holding out Uhura's robe, she placed her arms through as he reached to wrap her sash snugly around her waist.

"You can count on that," He whispered in her ear as his hands rested briefly on the swell of her hips, "but now the day begins."

***

Uhura was following Pahzj to Lilu'ka's apartments for the formal tea being held in honor of the First Ladies of Potakai. The royal suites were on the other side of the palace, so it was quite a journey. Uhura allowed a part of her mind to wander over the events of last night and this morning. It was just the sort of lapse in focus that Starfleet used to justify its continuation of the non-fraternization regs. Well, she thought, if Pahzj intended to slit her throat, at least she would die knowing how she felt about Jim.

Being held by Jim--it still sounded strange to call him that, out loud or even in her thoughts--whether playfully or passionately, she was on the verge of being overcome by all the emotions his touch evoked. She knew he was trying to let her set the pace of their relationship, but it was not in his nature to be passive. This morning, his tender kiss had quickly escalated to something nearly unstoppable; only Pahzj's interruption had broken the spell he had so promptly cast upon her.

After breakfast, Uhura had excused herself to her own bedroom to get ready for the day. When she had re-entered the living area, Kirk was once again 'the captain,' talking with Spock about his upcoming meeting with Anata'ka, Ramsha'ka and the Potakai Council. He noted her entrance with a smile, but kept it restrained, nothing like the look he had seared her with last night. In a way, it hurt her feelings to see he could distance himself so effortlessly from her, when not two hours ago he had nearly made love to her.

Uhura squelched that feeling; he had told her months ago that he could not allow himself to become involved with her. And again, last night he had told her that he could not continue anything past this mission. She had to accept it as fact if she intended to let this continue. These next few days were just a brief bubble in time when they could share themselves with each other, and hopefully, suffer no repercussions emotionally or professionally. A time when each of them was living outside of who they were and not constrained by normal realities. What was reality anymore? Uhura had no idea.

She brought her attention back to the present when Pahzj greeted the two fierce Warriors guarding the royal apartments entrance. The householder spoke softly, but with surprising authority to the stoic Potakai sentries. The senior Warrior flicked his crest in assent, allowing them to enter.

Lilu'ka's apartments were breath taking. The entire back wall appeared to be missing, allowing direct access to the outside balcony. The living area was rich in exotic plants. Chlorophyll was not the dominant plant photochemical on Potakai--the room was awash in purples, blues and varying shades of reds. The balcony actually supported two large trees whose branches were woven together to make a natural shade canopy.

A middle-aged Ménage female entered the room and gave Uhura a formal bow.

"My Lady, Mistress Lilu'ka asks that you join her in the salon."

As Pahzj had done when they first met, she turned without waiting for acknowledgement, leading the way. Uhura gave Pahzj a warm smile and followed the woman.

The salon was much more formal and prepared for the day's event. Uhura was somewhat surprised to see that she was the first guest to arrive. Lilu'ka came in from another balcony, one facing the palace's interior rather than the ocean, a frown etched on her delicate features before noticing Uhura's arrival.

"Ah, Lady Uhura, thank you for coming." The young Aristocrat tried to erase the sadness on her face. She fluttered her crest in welcome.

"Thank you, Your Highness, but please call me Nyota. I seem to be too early."

"Oh, not true, Nyota." The young woman was finally able to produce a genuine smile, but it faltered a bit before she pressed on. "Then please, call me Lilu when it is just us."

"I asked Pahzj to bring you a few minutes early to give us an opportunity to talk as equals before the others arrive and we must again assume our roles. It is rare to have someone to talk to where I do not always have to be the future Empress of Potakai. Since Anata'ka announced Ramsha'ka was her heir, our lives have not been our own. Life has become a constant game of power shifts and realignments. Courtesans are notoriously fickle and not the best choice for friendship."

The loneliness Lilu allowed Uhura to see was touching. How sad to be your world's next leader and have no one to talk to.

"Oh, Lilu, do you not have anyone from your crèche here at the palace?" Uhura remembered that Potakai crèche mates were the next strongest relationship a Potakai could form, only the pairbond was stronger.

"No, not at the moment. I was raised on Potakai Six, we call it Gengi, and until recently, it wasn't safe to transport civilians between planets. I hope to bring some of my siblings to stay with me soon."

"I'm sure that will be wonderful--" Uhura cut herself off; a loud chant could be heard coming from the inner courtyard.

Lilu looked at the open doorway and motioned for Uhura to follow her out onto the balcony. The Federation officer was unprepared for the sight before her. The royal apartments were much higher in the palace than their own apartments were, giving her a greater view of the courtyard. The grounds were aswarm with black-clad Warriors. There were thousands and thousands of them, moving and chanting in a hypnotic display.

"What are they doing, Lilu?"

"Praying for a good death." Lilu answered in a sad, but matter of fact tone.

"What?" Uhura asked incredulously.

"You do not know?" Lilu asked, her turn to be surprised.

"The war is over and Potakai no longer needs so many Warriors. After the Ascendancy ceremony, General Chota'di will lead most of them in 'Tikanga Whakamomori', or ritual suicide. It is the only way for a Warrior to die honorably outside of battle. Those left will stay to protect us from outsiders."

Uhura was dumbfounded; Potakai had millions of Warriors. The concept was unimaginable.

Lilu turned and escorted Uhura back inside, gently guiding her to sit down while the officer processed what she had heard.

"I don't understand. The war is over--can't they do something else?" The death of millions was flashing before Uhura's eyes.

Lilu looked at Uhura strangely, trying to understand the question.

"Nyota, they are Warriors, it is who they are. We are not like Humans who get to pick and choose their lives. We become fixated on a life path during our youth. It is not a choice, but an awakening. We cannot change the path inside us. One might as well try to stop breathing." The young Aristocrat was speaking as if to a child, trying to explain the meaning of life to a simpleton.

"Aristocrats are driven to lead, and sometimes that causes conflict. When two rulers of equal stature mature at the same time, the rest of us become confused as to whom to follow. Again, it is not a conscious choice, but an innate feeling of he pono tomau, or unfaltering loyalty.

Warriors are just as driven to protect and conquer. The last three hundred years of war has caused our society to expand their caste to a number that would finally succeed in ending the bloodshed. Is it not ironic that the ones to stop the war lose everything with its end?

The Ménage are just as driven to nurture us all. They raise the children, maintain our households, take care of the sick, provide a spirit home for the Gods, and offer comfort to everyone regardless of caste. A Ménage with no home will die.

Only the Citizen caste has some modicum of choice in their lives. Many actually get some decision in their career and who they might bond with. That is more than the rest of us have. This is what it means to be Potakai."

"Lilu, we were briefed on Potakai physiology, but the Federation had not drawn a conclusion as to what would happen to the Warriors after Anata'ka relinquished power."

Uhura's mind whirled back to last night, when Anata'ka had urged Kirk to push his way to the throne. What had she said in their mind…'If we are to succeed, you must earn their respect'… something like that. Succeed? Succeed in what? And who's respect--the Aristocrats’ or the Warriors’? Besides Chota'di and his staff, there had been many Warriors in the audience hall--the walls were practically papered with them.

What plan did the Dowager have that involved her captain and how dangerous was it? It had to be dangerous or he would have told her about it. When Anata'ka and Kirk had spoken alone as soon as they had beamed down, Anata'ka had said it was to protect Ramsha'ka, but what else? She could not ask Lilu these questions. No, it was far too dangerous to broach such a cultural imperative without hard facts; facts Kirk had not shared.

"Nyota, are you all right? I did not tell you of the Tikanga Whakamomori to upset you, but to explain. They are not sad to die, in fact, they welcome it." Lilu tried to comfort the Human, but was not actually sure how to when she could barely grasp the reason for her agitation.

"Tell me what it is like to serve on a starship." Lilu asked, thinking diversion the best course of action.

Uhura took the cue and chose to go with it. She gathered her wits and gave the young woman a tight smile. The idea of so many sanctioned deaths was appalling to her. However, Kirk possibly being involved in some type of scheme with Anata'ka tempered the disgust with quiet anger at being left out of the loop.

"It's great, Lilu. I get to see so many wondrous sights and experience new and fascinating cultures."

"Do you not miss your planet and your culture? Doesn't it make you lonely for home?"

"Sometimes I get homesick, but I can send messages back and forth to my family. And I have a great extended family on the Enterprise."

"Family? Crèche mates, yes?" Lilu asked curiously.

"To Potakai, yes. On Earth, normally the woman who bears a child raises it herself. We have many different types of family, but my family consisted of a biological mother and father, along with two biological siblings. I feel about them the way you do your crèche mother and mates." Uhura felt the analogy worked well, as Lilu nodded in understanding.

"So small a household; do you not get lonely?"

Uhura laughed, she had been quite the tomboy growing up and had fought regularly with her older brother. Her little sister came along twelve years later and Uhura was not around much as she grew up.

"Oh, sometimes, but I think we Human's need more emotional space than Potakai do," Uhura offered as explanation.

"So, how does one become pairbonded on your world? Do you choose, or is a mate chosen for you?" Lilu dropped her crest and spoke softly. It made Uhura think back to her teenage years and those late night chats about boys with her girlfriends.

"That depends on where you live on Earth, or the Federation for that matter. In mine and the Ambassador's cultures, we are expected to choose our own mate."

"You and Ambassador Kirk are from different societies? How did you meet then? I am from Gengi, but the bonding between Ramsha’ka and I was arranged."

Uhura took a deep breath; this was getting too close to home. "We met on the Enterprise. I've served with the Ambassador for three years now."

"Ah, of course, one would expect bondings to form during such long missions."

Lilu seemed content to have explained the relationship to herself in Potakai terms and Uhura chose not to dissuade her. Trying to explain Starfleet fraternization regulations to a Potakai would only cause them to question their sanity. Uhura did that often enough herself. She was rescued from further friendly interrogation by the arrival of other guests. Uhura watched as Lilu let out a soft sigh and resumed her regal posture before facing the newcomers. Regardless of the surrounding luxury, Uhura did not envy the young ruler's life.

***

Pahzj led her back to their apartments after the tea in order to allow her time to prepare for the cleansing ritual. Probably, as lead householder, he felt it was his sole responsibility to escort each of them to their formal functions. That was fine with Uhura because it would be easy to get lost in the labyrinthine palace. Uhura was not sure what their exact role in this ceremony was to be, just that anyone involved in the Ascendancy Ceremony was required to participate.

When they entered the apartment, Uhura saw Kirk out on the balcony; his back was to her. The overcast had burned away and the bright sun was glaring off the loose white shirt and pants he was wearing. It was not an outfit she had picked out for him. Pahzj seemed to notice her confusion and spoke.

"The Ambassador's meeting ended early and he has already dressed in his 'moia,' the ceremonial dress of a pilgrim seeking purification. Nesz has laid out yours as well."

"Oh, thank you, Pahzj, then let me go and get changed myself."

She looked at the soft cottony outfit on the bed; hers appeared to be a loose gown rather than shirt and pants. Nesz entered silently and spoke.

"My Lady, it is customary to enter the temple clad only in the moia when one seeks purification. No other garment, jewelry or makeup is allowed."

"I see," Uhura answered hesitantly. She studied the moia again to see just how thin the material was. 'Oh well', she thought, 'when in Rome…'

Finished changing, she joined Kirk on the balcony. After months in space, the sun beckoned to her too. The warm breeze was soft but steady. Kirk looked around as she neared, obviously enjoying the sight of her moia being molded to her body by the wind.

"It's going to be very difficult to purify my thoughts if I have to look at you in that for very long." He teased as Uhura neared.

Uhura ran an appreciative eye over him as well. The glistening whiteness of his loose shirt made his tan skin appear all the darker. The wind did an equally impressive job of highlighting the best parts of his anatomy through the flimsy material as well.

"Well, I guess we'll be cast out together, just like the first time." She threw back; it was getting easier to let down her guard and be more open with him.

Kirk reached out and took her hands, intertwining his fingers with hers, reeling her toward him one step at a time. When she was touching him, breast to chest, he leaned down and dappled the arch of her neck with soft kisses. Her reaction was strong and immediate. Uhura felt her nipples harden more than she thought possible; a low moan passed her lips and she pushed her body into his.

"Now who is being the tease?" She whispered in his ear as she leaned in to nip its enticing lobe. He knew they had to leave for the temple very soon; this was just revenge for last night.

"I never tease," he spoke huskily as he planted the same delicate kisses on the other side of her neck, "it's just an advertisement of what I intend to do later."

He turned her toward the stone wall and stepped close behind her, his arms sliding under hers and locking across her abdomen. He pressed himself firmly against the small of her back, trapping Uhura between him and the wall for a delicious moment before backing away.

"You are evil," Uhura tossed at him in a shaky voice. The quiver was from trying to control the desire he had awakened in her so easily. She felt no panic at his touch; he dominated her without thought and her body responded naturally. It just seemed so 'right'. For the first time, Uhura finally believed she might be able to put the past behind her.

Kirk leaned forward and rested his elbows against the low stone wall. It might have eased his own tension, but the outline of his firm butt did little to soothe Uhura's. Catching her stare, he chuckled and stood back up.

"Who me?" He asked innocently. "No, not me. I was just out here minding my own business when you came out and enticed me. Now come on, you know we have to go to the temple; you're going to make us late." He grabbed her hand and pulled her into the apartment, laughing as she rolled her eyes. What had she unleashed?

***

The temple was striking in all its plainness. The interior was clad in a white-veined stone reminiscent of alabaster. The room was large and rectangular, with the walls stair-stepped in coliseum fashion. All the observers for today's ritual would sit along the walls and watch the ceremony unfold in the center below them. At the opposite end from the entrance, a lone flame fountain similar to the one in Kirk's bedroom dominated. A host of completely bald Potakai, dressed in gray moias, sat around its base, chanting and bowing.

Uhura saw Anata'ka and Chota'di kneeling at the feet of the one bald Potakai that stood out front, as if blocking their path to the fountain. Anata'ka's crest was pulled back in a completely submissive posture. Chota'di's crest was back also, though it fairly pulsed with agitation. Ramsha'ka and Lilu'ka walked up behind them but did not kneel, though their own crests were also dropped in submission. All four of them were dressed in the same style moias as Kirk and Uhura. Even bare of any ornamentation, Uhura thought them exquisite. The light from the flames reflected off their iridescent feathers.

Anata'ka seemed to be answering the disciple's chant with a cadence of her own. As they walked up and stood behind the other two couples, Uhura strained to hear what was being said. She could make out little, but the tone sounded desperate. The bald Potakai looked down at the Empress, watching her with hard eyes. As she finished her response, he reached down and plucked the center crest feather from her head. Anata'ka did not move; she did not even flinch. He next turned his attention to Chota'di and also plucked the center crest feather from the Warrior's head. Chota'di remained still, just as Anata'ka had.

Uhura and Kirk exchanged looks--that had to be extremely painful. The crest feathers were deeply embedded in the flesh of a Potakai: they had to be to support their weight and allow for their movement. The humans wondered if they would be expected to endure something similar.

The priest, or at least Uhura thought of him as one, seemed satisfied with only the two feathers in his hand. He turned and approached the fountain. He extended each feather to the center flame and held them there, watching the fire consume them. As it burned toward his fingers, he tossed the last remnants into the heart of the fire. Uhura found herself holding her breath as the priest turned back and leveled his stare upon the small party before speaking.

"Tupato koutou kaore' tikanga wairua," the translator could not decipher the dialect he used.

Anata'ka and Chota'di touched their foreheads to the floor before rising. Uhura noticed a small rivulet of violet blood ran down from where their crest feathers had been plucked. Anata'ka glanced at Chota'di, anguish on her face for one brief second before being schooled in solemnity. However, that one look told Uhura volumes.

/Zhames, Nyota/ Anata'ka spoke within their minds, /We have been granted permission to undergo the cleansing ritual. This particular ceremony has not been conducted since my bond mate, Mishcha'ka, ascended the throne over three hundred years ago. It can be dangerous. However, if you are still and meditate throughout, one usually comes away unscathed. /

Uhura could sense Kirk's concern over Anata'ka's use of the word 'usually'. For her part, she had hoped the feather plucking had been the ritual.

/ Hardly, Nyota, it was my penance to pay in order to participate. Blood oaths are costly and everlasting. Chota'di and I will never truly be 'pure' again. /

/ We're ready, just tell us what to do. / Kirk answered for them both.

/ Just follow my lead and allow the disciples to place you as they want. Stay exactly as they position you, otherwise you may regret it. /

Anata'ka turned and followed the priest to the center of the room. The rest of them followed. Chanting disciples came up and began positioning each of them in a circle. The observers who had silently glided in for the ceremony picked up the chant, causing it to echo off the walls. Uhura found herself kneeling across from Kirk, between Ramsha'ka and Chota'di. Each of them posed opposite their mate. Next, their arms were extended and they were made to grasp one hand of their mate and one of someone else. They ended in something of a pinwheel pattern, a set of arms crossing each other in the center of the circle and every other body clasping a neighbor.

The disciple’s continued their chant and took great pains in all their positioning. Uhura was pushed and prodded until the priest appeared satisfied. Finally, the chanting stopped and the disciples backed away. The priest stepped forward and drew a shape in the air. Uhura realized it was the same shape they had been positioned to emulate. They felt the floor vibrate and saw tiny holes appear in the floor below them.

/ Don't move! Sing the chant and meditate. / Was all the warning Uhura got as the floor erupted in a mist of water, only to be followed by jets of fire. Instinctively, she wanted to pull away, but Kirk and Ramsha'ka held her immobile. The disciples renewed their chant and began a slow march around them.

The water and flame continued to dance all around them, shooting up in chaotic patterns. Steam hissed as the two met. The moisture settled on and around them, dampening their hair, or feathers, and causing the moias to cling revealingly to their bodies, yet any movement would cause a serious burn. Uhura attempted to center herself mentally and pick up the singsong mantra the disciples wove about them.

How universal to believe that one could purify something by water or flame, Uhura thought. As she relaxed to the rhythm of the chant and the dance of the two forces surrounding them, Uhura found herself looking at Kirk. Her eyes were about the only part of herself that she could move without incurring injury. He gazed back at her, the flames dancing off the highlights in his eyes. His look caused her to feel anything but pure. She felt heat rise to her face that had nothing to do with the fire dancing just inches away. Trapped by the flames surrounding her, the blaze of his devouring gaze made Uhura burn with a different kind of heat. She tore her eyes away and glanced at Anata'ka, who was kneeling on Kirk's left. She had to look at someone else or she thought she might implode.

Anata'ka was staring at Chota'di, who was kneeling to Uhura's left. Uhura recognized that the Dowager's stare was kindred to Kirk's; she was feasting on the Warrior with her eyes. Misa-mren--wasn't that what Anata'ka had called it? Mixed caste? Now Uhura understood why Anata'ka was so interested in the feelings Uhura and Kirk shared; she possessed those same feelings for her Commanding General. Did he return them? Uhura was hard-pressed to see Chota'di's face without turning her head. More questions flashed though her mind. Was Anata'ka allowed to take another mate, or lover? Was her attachment to the general, or the fear of losing him, the reason why she was planning something with the captain? Uhura had intended to broach that subject with him when she returned from the tea, but he had distracted her.... She knew Anata'ka was reading her thoughts, but the Empress did not respond. She did, however, close her eyes and take up the chant.

Time drifted on, the chanting mesmerizing the pilgrims. Eventually, the rhythm of the water and fire changed along with the disciples’ chant. The fire now became dominant and the chant turned into a sibilant hiss. The steam and dampness were burned away, leaving the participants surrounded by uncomfortable heat. Just as the temperature became unbearable, the flames vanished, taking the water with it. The disciples ended their chant on one final long hiss and were silent. They moved to help the pilgrims rise, but Uhura's body felt locked in place; she had been in that one posture for hours. She was slowly able to stand and waited for what would happen next.

"Hema ki ta tikanga wairua," The priest made the strange sign in the air again and strode from the temple.

Uhura fell into place beside Kirk as they marched out behind the Potakai Aristocrats, the disciples completing the processional. They were escorted to the palace entrance and delivered to the waiting Ménage. Pahzj came up to claim his two house members and took them away, not allowing for any conversation with the others.

Uhura was tired and stiff from the long period of inactivity the ceremony had demanded. She fell back a pace or two before Kirk noticed her absence. He stopped, allowing her to catch up, then took her hand in his, pulling her against him. Uhura leaned into his body, using him for support.

Her body was tired but Uhura's mind was analyzing Kirk's actions, how he was using every opportunity to touch her, to acclimate her to the feel of his hands on her body. Uhura didn't know if it was by conscious effort or instinct, but it definitely was a change in behavior for him.

He caught Uhura smiling as he glanced down to check on her and asked, "So what's the grin about, Penda?"

Uhura looked up in surprise; she had not been aware of her expression.

"Oh, nothing in particular. I was just enjoying how it felt to be walking with you like this." She kept to herself how worried she had been that this feeling would be lost to her forever.

A quick smile brightened his face for a moment and he kissed the top of her head.

"I'm enjoying it myself, now that you mention it." He pulled her closer, tucking her neatly against his side, and urged her on.

***

TBC

~ID'ic

Healing Touch Chapter 5 K/U [NC-17]

2010-02-27T12:09:00.003-06:00

Image something I manipped on a cold day.

Disclaimer: Paramount owns Star Trek. I only own my fantasies.

Beta: Sincere gratitude goes to: Nyotava, Bandicca, Zapp and Trekskitten for such wonderful betaing! Each of them brought fresh insight and used their unique expertise to make this story a reality.

Summary: A sequel to "My Faith in You," addressing Uhura's recovery from a brutal attack and the depths of Kirk's commitment to keep her in his world.

~~~~

Pahzj took them back to the Audience Hall, where they had beamed down that afternoon, and bade them wait. Except this time he escorted them to the far entranceway; apparently they were expected to make a lengthy entrance.

"Ambassador, tonight’s reception is in your honor, and as tradition dictates, you and Lady Uhura will be introduced last so all may pay you respect. It should only be a few minutes to wait."

"Thank you, Pahzj." Kirk knew the custom, but would have preferred to be introduced first. It would have allowed him to see everyone else’s introduction and learn who the players were.

/ Do not concern yourself with that, Ambassador. I will point out all the people of power you should be aware of. Tonight I need you to act as if you are the person of power; you must earn the respect of those here if we are to succeed. Stare down any that would challenge you. Come all the way to the throne. The generals will attempt to stop you, but push your way past. No matter what you do, do not back down. /

Kirk looked over to Uhura and could tell from her expression that she had ‘heard’ Anata’ka as well.

"Remember, you didn’t want to miss anything," He reminded her mildly as they stepped up to be announced.

"You weren’t kidding, were you, sir?" Uhura was glad she had his arm to lean on, her knees suddenly felt like gelatin.

Kirk glanced down and smiled, he looked like he did this every day. Finally, the doors opened and they were announced to the crowd. "Penda," he whispered, "you look as beautiful as the Queen of Sheba; now walk with me and act like her."

They stepped into the gigantic hall that was packed with the ruling Potakai from all twenty-eight homeworlds. Row after row of Potakai faces turned as one and stared at the two humans. From somewhere, the Federation anthem played as UFP banners were raised at either side of the throne dais.

Kirk pulled Uhura close and strolled into the great hall. His posture was sure and relaxed, as if he owned the world. The near section of Potakai was all Citizen caste and each one bowed deeply as they passed. Nearly midway to the dais, the guests changed from Citizen to Aristocracy, but still they cast down their eyes and hair crests. Only as they neared the dais did the contact become an intangible struggle; those who appeared to challenge quickly changed their mind when they saw the feather token that Kirk wore.

Uhura kept her pace regal and sedate even though her heart was racing. She kept her eyes level and serene, taking each acquiescence as if it were her due. She glanced at Kirk and saw him radiate such self-assurance; she pictured Admiral Nogura during inspection, and almost laughed. No one swaggered more than the Old Man did, but Kirk was giving him a run for his money.

As they reached the dais steps, a tattooed black clad Potakai, sporting a magnificent warrior V crest, stepped into their path. His yellow eyes looked hard at the golden feathers in Kirk's hair.

"The Federation sends a Warrior instead of a true Ambassador. Is this meant as an insult, ‘Captain’ Kirk?" Uhura noted he spoke Potakai, but the translator still captured his challenging tone.

/ Careful, Zhames-this is General Chota’di- he is *my* Commanding General, but that makes him more deadly rather than less. / Anata’ka broadcast quickly then vanished again.

"General, on my world, I can be both. No insult was intended. I represent the Federation at Empress Anata’ka's request."

/ Very good, Zhames, he expected a warrior’s response. You have given him something to consider. /

Kirk sidestepped the general and continued toward the dais. He had let go of Uhura when the Warrior intervened, allowing himself some maneuvering room if needed. Now, he turned and pointedly waited for her to again take his arm. When she had resumed her position, he glanced back over his shoulder and nodded once to Chota’di.

The General pondered Kirk for a moment before dropping his crest slightly in an acknowledgement of equals. Oh well, Chota’di might not accept him as Aristocracy, but at least he granted him access to his liege lords. That would do for now.

Uhura squeezed Kirk’s arm in a gesture of relief; she could do no more or the Potakai would sense their bluff. She kept her face schooled in serenity as they started up the steps once again. Uhura could feel all eyes from the assemblage below boring holes in her back. Not particularly in anger, but in confusion, as they tried to reassess their own place in the hierarchy now that the Federation had arrived.

At the top of the dais, Uhura caught her first sight of the Emperor to be and his Queen. Ramsha’ka was a handsome Potakai male of approximately thirty standard years. His feather crest of silver and teal was arched in regal fashion. While probably of no blood kin, he had the same turquoise colored eyes as his ‘grandmother’ Anata’ka. His face bore none of the tattoos so prominent on Anata’ka’s face. He had no blood oaths to display--his spirit was pure. However, his arms were decorated with all the same clan affiliations as the Dowager’s.

Ramsha’ka’s wife, Lilu’ka, was an exquisitely beautiful Potakai of about twenty-five standard years. Her face was also bare of tattoos, but she sported many on her arms. Some were the same as Ramsha’ka’s and some were different. Her violet and silver crest was erect in a brilliant display. Lilu’ka’s eyes were the same violet shade as her crest.

As they neared, Ramsha’ka broke into an easy grin while saying something quietly to Anata’ka. He stood up and extended his hands to either side, allowing the Empress and Lilu’ka to both grasp one and stand simultaneously. They waited for the Federation representatives with regal grace.

Uhura looked between Anata’ka and Lilu’ka; the dowager certainly did not appear to be three centuries older than the younger woman. She stood proud and erect, her own gold and teal crest spread in a dominant display. Her feathers just brushed the floor, while Ramsha’ka’s and Lilu’ka’s still had over two feet of clearance.

When within speaking distance, Kirk stopped and acknowledged the rulers with a formal bow. Uhura dropped into a low curtsy; it was not Potakai custom, but it seemed to meet favor. The three Aristocrats greeted them with a quick drop of their crests. As with Chota’di, it was an acknowledgement of equals.

"Ambassador Kirk and Lady Uhura, I bid you welcome to Potakai Prime. I present to you my heir, Ramsha’ka, and his wife, Lilu’ka." Anata’ka smiled with affection toward her grandson.

"Your Highness," Kirk broadcast his own most charming smile, "It is a great honor to be here. The Federation looks forward to a strong relationship with the Potakai people."

"As do we," Ramsha’ka spoke before turning to Anata’ka. "Grandmother, can we not continue our conversation without the whole assemblage held hostage?"

Uhura looked over her shoulder and saw the entire room was frozen in a deep bow, all crests down in a submissive posture.

"They are not hostages, Ramsha’ka, they only pay respect to us and our Federation guests. To hold power, you must hold respect. Do not allow sympathy to erode either." The Dowager turned toward the mass of Potakai and spoke in a firm but gracious tone.

"Faithful guests, thank you for service and dedication. We are now all of one house, it is time to meet your new sisters and brothers. Please partake of the refreshments and greet each other."

The room swarmed with Ménage bearing trays of food and drink. The crowd rose from their collective bow and began to murmur and mingle.

"Ambassador, please, you and Lady Uhura must sit with us a while before mingling with the other guests." Ramsha’ka spread his arms wide and gestured for them to seat themselves in the two chairs being placed in front of their own by scurrying Ménage. Other Ménage pressed in, offering them a selection of drink and tidbits of food.

***

The evening waned on and Uhura noticed that Potakai pair bonds did not ‘work the room’ as a couple, but rather, each covered as much territory as possible individually. She was greeted by several ranking members who called themselves ’we’ before she understood they were communing telepathically within the bond and cognizant of whom each was meeting. She and Kirk had separated in a human effort to do much the same--meet as many Potakai as possible.

/ I’m sure we must be very different from your culture, My Lady. / Anata’ka spoke in her mind during a quiet moment.

/ Oh, please, Your Highness, call me Nyota. And yes, you are very different, but that’s what makes it so wonderful and exciting. /

/ Good, then you must call me Anata’ka, Nyota. It has been a pleasant evening for me as well. Ramsha’ka and the Ambassador seem to be getting along quite well. /

Uhura looked over and saw Kirk and Ramsha’ka deep in conversation, but the smiles on their faces made it doubtful their talk was of anything official.

/ No, they speak of climbing on rocks. It would appear they have found a common interest. /

Uhura smothered a laugh; Kirk always found a way to connect with someone.

/ That is one of the traits of a good leader. You can’t lead if others don’t want to follow. Getting to know your people, their likes and dislikes, helps a leader form bonds that cross many barriers. /

Uhura caught herself still staring at Kirk, watching him interact with the heir. He scanned around the room, seeking her out. When he made eye contact with her he looked for a sign she was okay. She smiled broadly and tapped the side of her head, trying to tell him she was in conversation with Anata’ka. He smiled and nodded before turning his full attention back to Ramsha’ka.

/ He watches out for you always, does he not? /

Uhura’s thoughts flashed on all the times Kirk had taken care of her lately. Far too many images came to mind. She always considered herself a giving person and did not like feeling needy.

/ Do not regret his attentions, Nyota. He does not regret giving them to you. He values you very much and wishes you to be happy. /

Was she happy? She had been, before Bengali, before her attack. Knowing she had a home on Enterprise, a home that included him, had made her happy then. Now, that was all in jeopardy.

/ You have suffered much and still bear wounds that have not healed. I feel much pain in your heart. You are scared you will lose everything you have. /

/Can he stop that from happening, Nyota? Can you let him heal your spirit? You trust him above all others, but now you question whether that is enough. His interest scared you when you thought he might act upon it. /

/ In my world, you and he would be considered misa mren, mixed caste, an attachment to someone outside your caste. You sense this yourself; you’ve often thought he was too intense for you to be in any type of permanent relationship. This is true and you are wise to recognize it. Yet, there is more... something linking you together... I do not understand what I see, but it is something new. It keeps you two ensnared, drawn to each other, but unsure why. /

/ No, you and he are not meant to be, but you *are* meant to be forever. I see you together, but not, for most of your lives. You will see each other through crisis. Yours is now and his is to come. Allow him to help you find your trust again, or he will push you away when he needs you most. /

Uhura nearly fainted from the press of Anata’ka’s mind upon her own. The thoughts had flashed by in seconds; she still had the remnant of her smile she had given Kirk on her face. How could such depth of thought and emotion be communicated so quickly?

/ Anata’ka, you are right, I am scared. I thought I would be able to let him touch me. In fact, I had dreamed he was the one, but now, I don’t know. Tonight, when I saw desire in his eyes, the reality of it nearly made me panic. /

/ Child, he is afraid too. He must trust you with his heart; that you will protect it and give it back to him whole. He risks his entire world, everything that is important to him, in order to keep you a part of it as well. A stray word or an angry action could cost him dearly. If you can, make him see himself as a healer instead of a lover. In that way he will be able to reconcile his actions within himself. If you would see his desire as a desire to help, it will calm your panic. /

/ Thank you, Anata’ka, for your words of wisdom. I am grateful you have taken such an interest in me. /

/ You are correct in that I do not often concern myself in the private lives of others. However, you Humans have no way to truly know the thoughts of another, not even your mate. I find that sad and unbearably lonely. Please forgive me for my attempt at ‘playing God’, goodnight Nyota. /

With that thought Anata’ka was gone from her mind. Uhura took a deep breath and sipped her wine. The whole exchange with the Dowager had taken barely a minute. One of the province ministers took that moment to approach and she was glad to be pulled back into the verbal realm.

***

The evening had been a great success. As they walked back to their apartments, Uhura internally reviewed the night’s happenings so she would be able to write an intelligent report later. The downside to attending parties during a mission was you had to stay distanced enough to observe and recount all events back to Starfleet. Kirk was quiet during the journey. Was he gathering his own thoughts or did he just prefer not to discuss the evening in a public area? She left him to his silent thoughts.

Uhura had spent quite a bit of time with Anata’ka, Ramsha’ka and Lilu’ka, discussing their vision of the future before branching out and greeting the recently assimilated factions. Those newly under Anata’ka’s rule did not particularly care for her, but the strange quirk of Potakai physiology that manifested itself with imprinting left them little choice but to submit.

Uhura also noted Anata’ka left most of the visioning to Ramsha’ka. Other than the one brief, but intensely personal contact, Anata’ka had kept all the conversation between them verbal during the reception. It still shocked her at how deep into her thoughts Anata’ka had gotten so quickly. It was unnerving to be analyzed so accurately and efficiently by a complete stranger. And why did Anata’ka share her insights into Kirk’s thoughts? Why did two lonely humans seem so important to her? Uhura felt manipulated and wasn’t sure why.

Once back at their apartments, Kirk sat down and asked her for her impressions on the evening.

"Like a ticking bomb about to go off, sir. The governors of the other planets don’t appear to like the change, but are emotionally constrained from doing anything about it. Ramsha’ka has high hopes, but I sense greater misgivings from Anata’ka."

Kirk looked at Uhura in surprise. "Why do you say that, Lieutenant?"

"Just a feeling I get, sir. It’s not really based on anything she said specifically. I guess it’s more about what she didn’t say. Maybe she’s trying to back off and allow Ramsha’ka to assume the lead, but I just get the feeling she’s holding her breath, waiting for something to happen."

Kirk nodded; Uhura couldn’t tell if it was in agreement with her assessment, or if he knew Anata’ka’s thoughts first hand.

Changing the subject, he asked, "What’s on the agenda for tomorrow?"

Uhura knew he was quite aware of each day’s itinerary, but played along. If he wanted chitchat, he’d get chitchat.

"You have a mid-morning meeting with the Potakai Council and I have a formal Tea with the ruling First Ladies. In the afternoon, we attend the holy ceremony of Nohoma Wairua, the cleansing ritual, at the High Temple. Then, tomorrow night, we attend a State Dinner welcoming us."

"Busy day; I think I’ll check in with Spock and then go to bed, goodnight, Lieutenant." Kirk gave her a tired smile and walked to his bedroom.

"Goodnight, sir. I’ll see you in the morning." It was late; the reception had lasted well past planetary midnight. Going to bed seemed like a good idea.

***

A low rumble brought Uhura instantly awake. She looked around the room, trying to locate what had brought her to consciousness. A spastic flash of light drew her attention outside. Far out on the ocean horizon, the lurid colors of an electrical storm could be seen dancing between the clouds. A second rumble soon followed and Uhura’s mystery was solved. The storm Spock had warned them about had finally made its appearance.

Uhura got up from the overstuffed bed, pulled on her robe and stepped into the common area. No one was there and the lights were turned down extremely low. She walked to Kirk’s bedroom. He had left the door partly open, and from the staccato light flashing again, she saw his still form on the bed. Turning, she quietly let herself out onto the balcony to continue watching the display.

From her spot against the stone wall, Uhura could see the tops of the waves as they broke against the shore. Still far out on the horizon, Uhura watched the purple and orange brilliance light up the edges of the towering clouds. The next soft and distant rumble stretched out, reverberating upon itself, a warning of what was to come.

The breeze freshened and Uhura pulled her robe tighter. The shiver was only partially related to the cool breeze, the other part was her anticipation of the nearing storm. Storms had excited her since she was a child. Once, on a family camping trip on the Serengeti Plain, a powerful storm had spooked a herd of wildebeest so badly they had stampeded through their camp. Uhura remembered feeling the ground shake from the thunder of their hooves and her ears from the thunder of the storm. The feeling from the rush of adrenaline that moment had filled her with would stay with her forever. The fear of the storm and the wildebeest had made her hypersensitive to her surroundings. She could still remember the soothing touch of her gown against her skin, and the pulsing beat of the shelter wall she had leaned against. She could still smell the scent of the grass being pummeled by the rank beasts running just outside her window, and see the lightening frame their bulky shadows in stark relief against the far wall. Uhura was so caught up reliving that long ago night that she did not hear Kirk come up behind her.

"It’s beautiful, isn’t it?" He asked quietly as he stepped up behind her; his tone carried the same reverence Uhura was feeling.

Uhura jumped, startled by his nearness when she had been spiritually so very far way.

"Oh, Captain, you scared me. I thought you were asleep." Glancing over her shoulder, Uhura replied in a breathless whisper.

"I’m sorry, I tried to sleep, but I guess I’m still a little too wound up from tonight’s festivities" He sighed.

"I was sleeping pretty well until I heard the thunder. I had forgotten Mister Spock’s warning. It is beautiful, just like back on Earth."

"Yes, it is. That’s one of the things I miss most out in space, the weather. Ion storms aren’t quite the same."

Uhura couldn’t see his smile, but she heard it in his voice. He was standing right next to her now, looking toward the horizon. His presence, so near, made her feel like the storm did, hypersensitive. Channeling the excitement into bravery, Uhura decided to act upon Anata’ka’s advice.

"Captain?" Uhura began with no idea of how she would continue.

Kirk must have heard something in her voice because he turned to face her, giving her his full attention. "Yes, Uhura?"

"Captain…I just wanted to say…thank you for all that you’ve done for me, especially these last few months…I’ve truly enjoyed my time on the Enterprise--"

"Uhura," Kirk cut her off, "don’t give up. There’s still time--"

"Time for what, sir? We both know there’s little chance I’ll pass that scan." She looked up, trying to see his eyes, but only caught shadow during the quickening flashes.

"Uhura…why did you agree to this mission?" Kirk’s own tone became tentative.

"Because it sounded exciting and it would be a chance for one last mission. Because it was with you and I would have a chance to say goodbye." She whispered the last part, but knew he heard it.

"Do you want to say goodbye? Or are you trying to find a way to stay?" Kirk reached out and stroked her cheek. The one gentle touch unhinged her reserve. A great shudder tore through her body and she pulled away from him like she had been burned by his touch.

"I don’t know what I want!" She hissed. "I think I want you to touch me...to make love to me...but then, I panic and want to run away. I know I want to stop feeling this way--confused, out of control, scared and alone."

Realizing his touch had set her off, Kirk stepped toward Uhura, but kept his hands at his sides.

"Penda" He waited for her to look at him. The lightening grew closer and the wind was blowing his hair. His open robe had been blown nearly off his shoulders and she could see the deep contrast between his bare chest and the dark silk loungers he wore underneath.

"Penda, I want to help-—if you’ll let me. I can’t offer you anything past this mission, except your home on Enterprise, but...if you want me...if I can help...I’m yours."

He reached out a hand and waited for her to take it. Uhura could see the vulnerability in his gesture and it touched her heart. It also calmed her enough so that she could reach out and take his hand, allowing him to slowly pull her into his embrace.

"Oh, Captain--" She started, but Kirk cut her off.

"Penda, for this to work, you’ve got to call me Jim. 'Captain’ messes with my mind, okay?" He chuckled softly in her ear.

"Yes, Jim." It felt right, but not right, to call him that. Right for the intimacy of the moment, but not right in how she perceived her long-term relationship with him to be. Even wrapped in his warm embrace, where she had longed to be for months, her body rebelled with hard tremors.

"Jim, I do want you. I want you to make me feel whole again; I want you to make me feel beautiful. Right now, my mind and my body are in constant battle; it’s almost as if the terror attacks are back. I don’t feel in control of who I am anymore."

"Penda" Uhura could feel Kirk relax his embrace, "you’re in control of this and you *are* beautiful--inside and out. They didn’t take those things away from you." Uhura pushed him away; finally facing these demons brought all her buried rage to the surface.

"They took *everything* from me! My looks, my sense of worth, who I choose to touch me--everything! Do you know what I see when I look in the mirror…an ugly, worthless shadow of who I was. What man would want someone who is so used, so dirty?"

Kirk bound toward Uhura and grabbed her by the arms. She tried to break his grip, but his hold was so tight it hurt.

"I do, and I know everything that was done to you! I saw with my own eyes and through your memories what happened--and it changes nothing about how I feel about you. You are the victim, Penda, not the criminal. You’re not dirty, you’re just hurt..." He loosened his grip and pulled her to his chest, enfolding her in his arms.

"You’re just hurt, Penda, and I want to help." He whispered against her temple and gently rocked her in his arms.

Uhura felt something break inside her, emotions long held in check flooded to the surface in a great sob. "And I want you too. I’m just scared it’s too late--"

"Shhhh...It's not too late. We can do this, I know we can."

The first drops of rain splattered them, brought in by the wind. The storm was much closer and it was no longer safe to be outside. Kirk looked up at the sky and then back into Uhura’s eyes, an unspoken question in his own. The cold drops of rain pierced Uhura’s robe and sent more shivers through her.

"Can you just hold me tonight? I’m not sure I can handle anything else." She didn’t like how small and ragged her voice sounded; she could barely hear it over the pounding of her heart.

Kirk gave her a tender smile and wiped away a raindrop that had plopped on her forehead. "You’re in charge, Penda. I would love to hold you close while the storm passes." He pulled her back toward the doorway leading to his bedroom. Uhura took a deep breath and let him guide her inside.

***

The room was dark, save for the orange flickering from the fire fountain in the corner. He left the balcony door open, but flipped the switch on the doorframe that activated the force screen. It would stop the rain from entering but allow the breeze to pass through. At this setting, a person could walk through it feeling nothing more than a slight prickle on the skin. The wind rushed past them and caused the gauzy bed drapes to sway against their ceiling tether, their dance casting vaguely sinister shadows on the walls.

Kirk reached out and grasped the sash of Uhura’s robe, looking at her for permission to untie the knot holding it secure. Her heart raced into her throat; still she gave him a shaky, but approving, smile. Never taking his eyes from hers, he slipped the knot and gently pushed the robe off her shoulders. He tossed it over the nearby chair. Quickly, he slipped his own robe off and draped it over Uhura’s.

A ragged bolt of lightening sliced through the sky, immediately followed by a crashing boom of thunder. With a strong gale, the sky let loose with a frenzy of rain. Jim laughed and ran to the bed, taking Uhura with him much like the wind herded the rain. Uhura felt herself tumble through the gauze panels and land on the bed with Kirk. The covers were drawn over and tucked around her in one deft motion. Uhura giggled in spite of herself, that last boom was still echoing in her ears.

Uhura marveled at how Kirk had used the thunder as a way to get her in the bed without the awkwardness she expected to feel. Seeming to sense her unease, his manner was attentive but playful. Wanting to be there with him did not mean she didn’t feel intimidated by the change in their relationship.

"Oh, Jim, you weren’t kidding when you told Spock we would pull the covers over our heads." She laughed breathlessly.

Jim raised up on one elbow and grinned down at her near buried face. "I never joke with Spock; it’s a waste of humor."

Another tandem of lightening and thunder enveloped them and Kirk dropped down, snuggling deeper into the covers. He spooned his body with Uhura’s and pulled her back against his chest. His left arm was outside the bedding and he draped it across her chest, tucking it under her right breast. Uhura felt his cheek come to rest against her hair, just above her ear; his exhalations gently tickling across it and setting her nerves on fire. His hand, gently cupping her breast through three layers of bedding, was just as arousing. In fact, everywhere he touched her was alive with sensations she thought forever dead.

"Penda, are you all right with this? Your heart is about to pound through your ribs." Kirk asked in a worried tone.

Uhura rolled over to face him, partly in order to see him and partly to reduce the contact that was causing her to hyperventilate. The lightening was flashing nearly non-stop now and it lit his face up almost as bright as day. It allowed her to see him unguarded, without the mask he so often wore to shield his emotions from her. It permitted her to witness such a look of tenderness that her eyes welled up with tears.

The light from the flame fountain must have illuminated her face, because he wiped a tear from the corner of her eye.

"Don’t cry, Penda, I won’t hold you if that’s too much--" Uhura placed two fingers against his lips, silencing them with gentle pressure.

"Tonight I want you to hold me and tomorrow night I want you to make love to me. I may cry, push you away, or pass out before that happens, but please don’t give up on me. I think that’s why I only considered you for this. You *do* know everything that happened and still you care. If I have a complete meltdown, I don’t have to explain why to you. With anyone else that would just be added pressure and I can’t handle anymore right now." Kirk searched her face; she thought trying to decide if she was finished.

Uhura pulled her fingers away and replaced them with her lips. The kiss started soft and tentative; she really wasn’t sure her panic would not flare. However, it stayed in remission, so she pressed harder and with more passion. His lips parted, allowing her seeking tongue to explore at will. His hand came up of its own volition to caress her cheek. She allowed it and raised her own to rest against his chest. Uhura could feel his heart pounding now and she realized she needed to stop before it became impossible to do so. She broke contact and pushed away slightly, so she could see his face once again. His eyes were half shut, but shone with an intensity Uhura had no trouble recognizing as the same desire that had frightened her earlier in the evening.

"It’s late and I’m tired. Will you curl up to my back and hold me till I fall asleep?"

Kirk smiled but failed at holding back a soft sigh. "I can and I will. Go ahead and flip so I can snuggle up."

Uhura turned over and felt him spoon back against her again. She noticed he kept a layer of blanket bunched between their bodies. She guessed it was a necessary evil if they intended to get some sleep. Silk rubbing against silk was a lethal combination to chastity. Uhura had to get through tonight before she could allow herself to imagine that sensation.

Kirk draped his arm over her once more, but this time his arm was under the covers too. He ran his hand down Uhura’s arm until he found her hand, capturing it in his own. That felt good, but she bent her arm, drawing her hand up to her chest. Kirk started to let go, obviously afraid she would panic again, but Uhura held his hand tightly and brought it along. The back of his hand was tucked snugly against the silk of her gown, which felt better.

The feel of his hand against her breast did send current through her again, but this time she was able to control her feelings. This time Uhura felt safe. She knew the man holding her wanted her, but was willing to wait until she was ready. She didn’t intend for him to wait too long.

"Goodnight, Jim" she whispered as she pushed back and ground herself more firmly against him.

"Goodnight, Penda" he whispered as he brushed the tip of her ear with his lips.

Chill bumps broke out all over Uhura’s body and she audibly sucked in her breath, waiting to see if her teasing had gone too far. She heard him make a sound deep in his throat, not quite a laugh and not quite a growl. He said nothing more; he just pulled her into him once again.

Together, they watched the lightening continue its display and listened to the thunder grown fainter as the storm moved farther inland. Sometime during the early hours of morning, they both drifted off to the sound of the steady, pounding rain.

***

TBC

~ID'ic

Healing Touch Chapter 4 K/U [NC-17]

2010-02-21T15:48:00.004-06:00

Image courtesy of a Sims mod and a tweak by me.

Disclaimer: Paramount owns Star Trek. I only own my fantasies.

Beta: Sincere gratitude goes to: Nyotava, Bandicca, Zapp and Trekskitten for such wonderful betaing! Each of them brought fresh insight and used their unique expertise to make this story a reality.

Summary: A sequel to "My Faith in You," addressing Uhura's recovery from a brutal attack and the depths of Kirk's commitment to keep her in his world.

~~~~~

Kirk waited in the transporter room, dressed in a midnight blue suede outfit he considered his formal ambassadorial ensemble. He had left the Bridge in Spock's hands when the Potakai granting them permission to enter standard orbit had signaled them. In about five minutes, he and Uhura were due to beam down and meet the Dowager. That is, if Uhura ever made it to the transporter room....

Scotty stood behind the transporter console and tried not to smile at his pacing captain. He had already beamed down their gear and was just waiting for the Potakai to signal their readiness for the Federation ambassador and his consort. He sure hoped Uhura got there before that signal came through.

The door swooshed open and both men turned to see who entered the room. Uhura glided in wearing a resplendent silk dress in deep magenta. The cut was reminiscent of Old World China, with ribbon knotted closures down the front of it. The outfit clung to her like a second skin, showing each delicious curve. Her hair was upswept and pierced with black lacquered dowels to continue the Asian aura. Uhura smiled at the two speechless officers and stepped onto the transporter platform.

"Aren't they ready for us yet, sirs?" She asked in feigned innocence.

Kirk openly eyed her in admiration before joining her on the dais.

"At any moment now, Lieutenant." He returned in the same tone.

At the signal from the console, Scotty nearly jumped out of his skin. He was trying to acknowledge the Bridge, while continuing to stare at Uhura. Kirk didn't have the heart to chastise the smitten engineer. Scotty rarely noticed anything that didn't have a warp core attached to it and Uhura certainly seemed to be relishing the attention.

"Ah, Scotty, I think that would be our signal. We're ready when you can get around to it." Okay, so he couldn't resist teasing him a little.

"Oh, ah...aye Captain. Ye both have safe journey and I'd be willing to hear what the Potakai consider in the way o' refreshment when ye get back." The engineer jerked his eyes back to the transporter console and concentrated on his assigned task.

"I'll try to bring you back some samples -- for cultural education, of course." Kirk chuckled.

"Aye, that would be grand, sir." Scotty beamed back as he turned them into sparkles.

***

They found themselves materialized in a large antechamber. The walls were covered in varying shades of gauzy pastel cloth, bunched and draped from high fixtures embedded in the stone walls. A melodious sound emanated from all around them. Uhura could feel the music as well as hear it.

"Sub-harmonics, Cap - uh, Ambassador Kirk." Uhura caught herself. "Much of the sound is below our threshold of hearing, but we can feel it, like a deaf person can sense the bass tones of a song."

Kirk looked around, taking in the surroundings. While the room was large, it definitely appeared to be a staging area for formal occasions. Large double doors stood at either end of the room. The floor was made of a highly polished stone, visually similar to granite.

The doorway at the far end of the room opened soundlessly and an ancient looking Potakai male approached them slowly. Though he appeared old, he stood straight and walked with dignity. His head was covered in short, white feathers that they both recognized as the traditional styling of a Ménage householder caste. The whiteness of his feathers was striking against the purple black of his skin. When he reached them, the Potakai bowed, placing both hands over his face as he did so. Kirk and Uhura returned the traditional greeting and waited for him to speak.

"Ambassador Kirk and My Lady, the Dowager Anata'ka awaits you in the Audience Hall." The Potakai announced, then walked back the way he had come, not waiting for the Federation guests to speak.

Kirk shrugged and motioned for Uhura to precede him as they followed the alien.

Upon entry into the Audience Hall, both Kirk and Uhura were startled by the sheer size of the room. It easily could house a soccer field from Earth. The ceiling arched high overhead and was embedded with large rose-colored crystals, which cast vibrant reflections across the room. The floors and walls were much like the antechamber, polished stone and draped in cloth, but on a much grander scale. This floor practically gave off its own light and the cloth hanging from the walls was obscenely rich in both color and texture.

The old Potakai headed for the closest end of the long room. A raised platform was there and a woman sat patiently waiting in one of several very large jewel encrusted chairs. When he reached the bottom step of the platform, the Potakai bowed low toward the woman.

"Dowager Anata'ka, I bring you the Federation Ambassador Kirk and his Lady Consort." The Potakai introduced them, then stepped back toward the side, apparently finished with his task.

Kirk glanced over to Uhura before stepping in the same spot, bowing in the traditional and more formal style he had studied from their research files.

"I am gratified you have learned our customs, Ambassador. Please, you and your consort, approach." The dowager spoke in fluent, but slightly accented, Standard.

Kirk held out his arm for Uhura to hold as they climbed the steps together toward the dowager's throne. They had to hold themselves in check, as the lesser gravity made the climb ridiculously easy. It wouldn't do to bound up the steps in graceless energy.

At the pinnacle they found themselves staring face to face with the Dowager Anata’ka, empress of the Potakai star system. Though she was reportedly three hundred and sixty two standard years old, Uhura could not believe it.

The woman seated before them was strikingly beautiful in the most exotic way. Her hair consisted of feathers that spanned her head somewhat like a peacock's tail. The floor length plumage was gold and teal. Currently, the dowager had her feathery finery at rest, but Uhura knew she could extend them in a flamboyant display that would make any Vegas show girl proud. However, the most distinctive element to the dowager's appearance was her many tattoos. Every visible inch of her skin was covered in clan symbols of the people she had conquered and absorbed into her affiliations.

Uhura knew each tattoo on her face represented a clan that had been conquered in battle, while those on her arms represented a peaceful merging. Potakai believed that the taking of life left a mark on the living spiritually and they manifested that belief physically. Incredibly, Uhura realized that nearly four hundred years of Potakai history was mapped out on the body of its ruler.

The Potakai empress was swathed in long opulent robes embroidered with many of the same markings she wore on her skin. Each symbol was stitched in a different jeweled tone. Uhura had a flash of a kabuki dancer before her eyes and thought the resemblance uncanny.

During the brief moment Uhura had assessed the dowager, she realized the dowager was doing the same to her. A small smile appeared on the ruler's face and Uhura heard in her mind, rather than with her ears.

/ Ah, Child, my looks are pleasing to you as yours are to me. I think I would like to know more about kabuki /

Uhura would have sworn she heard a giggle at the end.

"Lady Dowager, I am your Federation representative, James T Kirk and allow me to present my consort, Nyota Uhura." Kirk greeted the empress formally, but warmly, gracing her with his most charming smile.

The dowager flashed her own version of a charming smile at them both. She might be over three hundred years old, Uhura thought, but the charisma she emitted was palpable.

"Ambassador, please forgive me for requesting this private audience before tonight's festivities, but no one is allowed in my grandson's presence before I meet them. I can afford to take no risks with his life."

"We understand, Your Highness. It must be a very anxious time for you and Ramsha’ka" Kirk replied.

"Ambassador, I have waited far too long for this moment to risk it now. And there is more—I need to speak with you alone—"

At the startled look from Uhura, the dowager spoke directly to her.

"My Lady, please do not be offended, but I must quickly discuss some matters of great import with the Ambassador. To do so, I must speak into his mind and he mine. You would be standing here alone for some time and I think that the greater offense. Please, allow Pahzj to escort you to your apartments, there you may wait in comfort."

Uhura glanced at Kirk and caught the slight nod of agreement.

"Thank you, Your Highness, for thinking of my comfort" Uhura replied graciously.

Kirk attempted to escort her down the steps, but Uhura stopped him with a slight touch against his hand.

"I’m fine, sir" she murmured.

Kirk watched her serenely make her way to the bottom, where Pahzj waited. When he refocused on the dowager, he noticed she was watching him intently.

"A consort who is and isn’t, Ambassador? Subterfuge or flattery?" Anata’ka asked shrewdly.

"Neither, Your Highness, Miss Uhura is my chief communications officer and she has kindly agreed to act as my consort for this mission. An attempt for us to be more readily accepted by your society." He felt her feather soft touch in his mind and knew she had already gotten her answer.

"A wise choice" Anata’ka answered, allowing the ambiguity of her statement to remain.

"Ambassador, I must know who you are. I need to touch your mind to tell if you are who I seek." The dowager asked tensely, as if she was not sure she was ready for the answer she sought.

At Kirk’s hesitancy, she implored.

"Ambassador, I will answer your questions once I have my own answers." She did not beg, but an air of urgency crept into her voice.

Kirk faced her squarely and held his arms out from his sides, a gesture of agreement.

"How may I help, Your Highness?"

"Please, come to me and allow my touch against your face."

Kirk stepped toward the empress and dropped to one knee, allowing her to touch him comfortably from her throne. Her fingers were soft and cool where she touched his cheek.

Instantly he felt a warm rush in his head and relived moments of his past…growing up on the farm, trying to be just like his grandpa. The nightmare of Tarsus Four and his fight for survival. The death of his father – Kirk felt his eyes sting again with new tears. On to his early admission to the academy, a mother’s desperate attempt to save a son consumed by anger. His friendship with Gary, something no one, least of all himself, could understand. The death of Captain Garrovick, the man Kirk felt he had disappointed for much of his career. Carol, telling him to stay away, that she wouldn’t share their son with a man who wouldn't be around to see him grow up. The excitement he felt upon his promotion to captain and being given the fleet’s flagship, Enterprise. The death of Gary, by Kirk’s own hand, and the despair that still spoke to him in the night. The loss of Edith, a woman he had nearly forsaken a universe to be with. The death of Miramanee and their unborn child, innocent in her love for the God she thought him to be. He could still see Sam’s lifeless body lying on the floor of his lab on Deneva and felt the same anger at having no time to mourn him. Finally, he felt her search his recent thoughts regarding Uhura and Bengali.

/ Captain, I call you that because that is how you see yourself, Captain of the Enterprise. You have lost much in your life, but still you seek. /

/ What is it that you seek: knowledge, love, and fortune – all or none of these things? I cannot tell because you don’t know yourself. You only know that you must continue to seek and explore as surely as you breathe -- that you must somehow protect the innocents of the universe. /

Kirk shuddered under her touch; the intensity of those painful memories caught him off-guard, making him feel vulnerable.

/ I have a need for such devotion to a pursuit, Captain. A need so great, I risk my culture in order to save it from itself. /

Kirk could hear the weariness in Anata’ka’s thoughts. Weariness from war and from living too many lifetimes.

/ Captain, I have over one hundred million warriors who no longer have an enemy to fight. Tradition calls for them to sacrifice themselves. A tradition I wish to abandon, but one that must be honored unless I find a different calling for those young enough to change. It is from your mente, or spirit, I wish to re-imprint them with a new quest—a desire to seek and explore beyond our boundaries. I need someone who is strong of heart and mind to redirect the goal of legions of warriors, or I must put them to death. To leave them as they are will throw us back into chaos. Another leader would develop to fill the void of those I vanquished. It is our destiny unless I can change the mindset of millions. /

Kirk had yet to speak outwardly or within his mind. The dowager’s goal was overwhelming in scope and responsibility; to be the focus of such a drastic culture restructuring left him numb. He was still recouping from the emotions she had dredged from his soul, and now, she told him he was her hope to save millions from senseless slaughter. He looked up into her turquoise eyes and saw total conviction in her plan.

/ Captain, you have a pureness of spirit and an unquenchable desire to protect the weak and innocent along with your lust for exploration. This is exactly what I sought when I asked the Federation for information on their commanders. I prayed that one of you would be worthy to rebuild my kingdom. /

/ Your Highness, I will gladly assist you in any way I can, but the goal you’ve set is extremely high and the risks are great. /

/ The risks are more than you know, Captain. If my plan is discovered before the Ascendancy Ceremony, an attempt will be made by the other leaders and generals to kill you, Ramsha’ka and myself. The idea is so foreign; they cannot process it until it is done. They are warriors and have only known war their entire lives. I am the only living Potakai who remembers peace. Change scares many; they would rather keep killing than learn to live another way. /

/ If we are successful, many will be spared and turned to a new mission. I want to create a fifth caste – a Seeker caste. Many of the Warriors are too old and entrenched in their ways to make such a change, but others can adapt. All who become Seekers will constitute our new Space Exploration Service—they may even join Starfleet. Those who remain Warriors will stay and protect the citizens of our system. Any who cannot accept either mission shall fall on their swords. It is their way, one I would prefer to change, but one I will honor in the interest of lasting peace. /

/ Ramsha’ka knows nothing of this, only you and I know my intent. He will accept it when it happens, but I prefer him ignorant for the moment. Assuming the reign is challenging enough without adding to his worries. /

/ But we have another problem, Captain. I see a shadow in your heart. You are troubled by recent events. Your consort was injured and has yet to be made whole. You have been involved in this process, but now you reject her. Why? I do not understand why you turn away from one I see you care for. The problem has left darkness in your soul. A darkness that we must banish if you are to be the catalyst I need you to be. Darkness would pass through the imprinting and cast a shadow on all I seek to change. Your mind and heart must be at peace for us to be successful. /

Kirk gripped the arms of the throne and pulled himself up and away from the dowager’s touch. He could not tolerate her gaze into his thoughts a moment longer.

"Empress, you don’t understand what you ask of me—"

"Zhames," she tried to say his name. "I know exactly what I ask of you. I ask that you heal Uhura’s spirit and your own. There is a connection I do not understand between you both, one I don’t think is natural, but I sense it nonetheless. You do not trust your feelings in this matter: a position you do not find yourself in often. You desire her and think that is wrong. I ask you, if she can be made well by your touch, why should that be wrong? Duty does not have to be undesirable. Pleasure is allowed, though often absent. Accept it as a gift from the Gods.

You need her whole, so she can remain at your side. It is within your power to do this and something you must allow to happen. She is desirable, yes? Ah…I see…too desirable in your eyes. You are afraid, in the act of loving her she will capture your heart. Yes, Zhames, that is a risk, but she is not truly your pair-mate—and you sense that. You are too different to complete each other, but you both resonate on so many levels that the interest won’t go away.

Please consider my words on this, Zhames. If you look deeply into yourself, you will see I am right. You have known this since your doctor challenged you days ago, but you refused to accept it then. I ask you to accept it now, my world depends on it."

Kirk felt his blood run cold as he listened to Anata’ka’s plea. How could he ignore her words when he knew what was at stake? Millions of lives would be forfeit if her plan wasn’t successful, but how could he approach Uhura when she knew nothing of the consequences?

"Zhames, I see your thoughts, but I would prefer you to not share my plan with Uhura. I trust her, but the risks are too great. She will understand what you desire if you would go to her. Your doctor is correct, only you can heal her now. I do not understand why it must be you, but it must."

Kirk paced away then turned back to the Potakai ruler.

"Your Highness, I will consider your words, but there are many reasons in my culture for me to resist your wishes." He desperately wanted to get away from her searing thoughts and eyes. He felt exposed by her perceptive look.

"Of course, Zhames, the choice is yours."

Anata’ka graced him with a serene smile, as if knowing she had already won. She reached up and plucked two small golden feathers from her temple.

"Please take these as a symbol of my desire to ally with your Federation, Zhames. Your looks are naturally golden, and many will find you exotically handsome, but your short mane will brand you as lower caste by those seeking reason to challenge you. These will make them take pause."

Anata’ka placed the two delicate feathers into Kirk’s palm.

"Uhura will know what to do with them. Wear them as a token of my esteem and you will be protected from all but the direst threats."

The elder Potakai rose from her throne and nodded formally to Kirk, signaling an end to their audience.

"Pahzj will escort you to your apartments and will remain as your head householder. He has been with me his entire service and I trust him implicitly to take care of you both." Anata’ka motioned toward her dedicated servant who had silently returned.

"I look forward to seeing you again tonight at the Reception, Zhames. It is mainly an opportunity to preen and take measure of each other, a less bloody form of war on most occasions."

Kirk smiled. Anata’ka had expressed his own thoughts regarding diplomatic functions.

"Until this evening then, your Highness." Kirk bowed formally and took his leave from the dowager.

***

The journey through the palace to their assigned apartments was uneventful. Pahzj did not speak unless Kirk asked him a question regarding some point of interest, and there were a lot of those. As Pahzj opened the double door to their suite, Kirk expected grandeur, but nothing on the scale that lay before him.

He entered into a brightly lit, circular reception area, one large enough to accommodate any serious diplomatic function’s invitation list. More melodious music exuded from the walls, nowhere and everywhere at once. It washed over him like a palpable wave. Pahzj continued through and opened the next set of double doors. Those opened into a luxuriously appointed living area, one whose entire far wall was embedded with glass doors that only slightly hid the panoramic view of the ocean on the other side. Kirk could see Uhura standing against the stone wall at the edge of the balcony, seemingly entranced with the mauve waves rolling into shore.

He had a hard time tearing his eyes away from the view himself, but Pahzj was intent on showing him the rest of the suite. Each side of the living area led off to a master bedroom that also opened onto the endless balcony. In the bedroom Pahzj said would be Kirk’s, the bed was in the center of the room, situated on a raised platform. Streamers of sheer material hung down from a central point in the ceiling and draped the bed in privacy. A large fountain consumed the far corner of the room; its center contained a bed of flame and glowing embers, encircled by jets of dancing water.

The bathroom contained a waterfall, or, at least, that was an accurate description for the shower as far as Kirk was concerned. The ceiling consisted of mostly a skylight--one whose glass started out frosted and then gradually faded into translucence. Water cascaded down from an angled ledge and spilled onto the rimmed floor below. The floor was level for most of its expanse, but it dropped sharply on one side, acting as a collection point for anyone interested in a deep soaking rather than a pounding shower. Kirk intended to try both.

Once finished with the tour, Pahzj suggested that Kirk join Uhura on the balcony. "Ambassador, the sunset is magnificent from this side of the palace. If you care to join the Lady Uhura, I shall bring refreshments."

"Thank you, Pahzj, yes I would enjoy that."

Uhura turned and smiled as Kirk made his way over to her edge of the balcony. The late sun backlit his hair, making it fairly glow. She could not see his own smile until he was next to her.

"I take it the accommodations meet your approval, Lieutenant?"

Uhura’s smile deepened. She was ecstatic with their apartments; a girl could get used to this luxury way too easily.

"Oh, I think I can make do, sir."

"Good," Kirk nodded solemnly, feigning concern; "I might have to put you in for a commendation if things get too rough."

The breeze freshened and Kirk was glad of his long sleeves. Noticing chill bumps on Uhura’s arms, he stepped closer, touching her softly on the shoulder.

"Uhura, do you need a wrap, or would you prefer to go inside?"

Uhura trembled slightly from his touch, but hoped he would think it was from the wind.

"Oh, my wrap is on the back of the sofa. It was very warm when I first came out to enjoy this."

As if Pahzj was telepathic himself, he came out on the balcony carrying a laden tray and bearing Uhura’s wrap over one arm. Once Pahzj set the tray down, Kirk took the wrap from him and draped it gently across Uhura’s shoulders, smoothing it in place with a tender brush of his hands.

"Thank you, sir," Uhura smiled over her shoulder, grateful for the extra warmth. The second touch from him did not go unnoticed. In fact, it had taken all her willpower to not lean into his casual caress.

"Ambassador, would you prefer to dine inside or on the balcony tonight?" The Potakai asked as he poured their hot tea. The reception started late and the refreshments would be limited to drinks and hors d’oeuvres.

Kirk glanced at Uhura, looking for a preference. At her shrug, he answered, "I believe we’ll dine inside this evening, Pahzj. It may take us a day or two to acclimate to your weather."

Pahzj bowed in acknowledgement and left them to sip their tea.

"How did your meeting with the dowager go, sir?" Uhura asked, back to business.

"Very interesting, Lieutenant. I think the dowager has set high ambitions for this mission. She is concerned as to how everyone will adjust to peace after knowing only war for so long."

Uhura realized Kirk had hedged. It was part of the truth, but not the whole of it. At her silent stare, Kirk knew she was aware of his dissembling.

"Oh, the Dowager gave me these and said you would know what to do with them."

Kirk, glad for the diversion, gently pulled the two golden feathers from his vest pocket and placed them securely in Uhura’s hand.

"She said they were a token of esteem and would compensate for my lack of long hair, or feathers." Kirk ran a hand through his wind blown locks and laughed ruefully.

"I should think so, sir. Only Rulers have golden feathers, and it’s rare even then. A gift of two pure gold feathers will mark you as a court favorite." Uhura glanced up, giving him a knowing look. When he grasped the meaning of her look, he actually blushed.

"She said they would ensure our safety if tempers flared, Lieutenant. Nothing else was implied." He stammered slightly, unused to her teasing.

Relenting, she giggled. "Of course, sir. Let me attach these to one of my smaller hair clips and you’ll be able to wear them tonight."

Uhura got up to perform this task and Kirk came inside with her. He stayed in the living area and was seated on the overstuffed sofa when she returned.

"Okay, sir, let’s try it out." Uhura sat down next to him and clipped the feathers into his hair, just above his right ear. The splayed feathers hid the clip and they seemed to sprout from his head naturally. She held out a hand mirror for him to admire himself. Kirk grinned at his reflection before turning to speak.

"Lieutenant, I think you’ve just made a fashion statement."

"Oh, no sir, but you will. You’ll be the envy of every male at the reception."

Kirk laughed at that remark and eased back into the sofa. Uhura had never seen him so mellow. She felt very at ease herself and wondered if the tea contained an herbal relaxant. The trilling music in the background made her want to shut her eyes and just drift.

"Captain?" Uhura struggled to form a thought.

"Hmmm…Lieutenant." He answered lethargically.

"Do you feel extremely at peace, sir?"

Kirk opened an eye and looked at her, waiting for her to continue.

"I mean, since we’ve come inside, do you feel unusually relaxed?"

Kirk opened both eyes and seemed to do an internal assessment before responding. "I guess you could classify it as that, Lieutenant. What are you thinking; have we been drugged?"

"Oh, no sir, I don’t think that. It’s just, well…it’s just the music, sir. Remember how I said we could only hear part of it when we first beamed down? I think the part we can’t hear can still affect us though. It’s just a theory, but it appears to stimulate the brain to release endorphins, the body’s own pain killer and mood enhancer."

Kirk tried to appear alarmed, but failed miserably. "Do we have anything to worry about?"

Uhura was trying very hard to focus on the topic, but wasn’t succeeding much better than the captain.

"Doubtful, sir. If we could ask Pahzj to turn it down just a little, I think we would do fine. I think the dowager is using this as a way to keep everyone calm before the ceremony."

Pahzj entered the room announcing dinner and Kirk awkwardly motioned for the householder to come nearer.

"Pahzj, is there any way to lessen the effects of the music? It appears humans are more susceptible to its affects than Potakai are" Kirk slurred, feeling himself leering instead of smiling.

Seeing both Humans lying limply on the sofa, the elder Potakai’s eyes grew wide in alarm. He moved with amazing speed to a hidden panel on the far wall and punched several buttons. Once satisfied the offending music was muted, he returned to check on his guests.

"My apologies, Ambassador and Lady Uhura, the borunjee music is an effort to keep tempers cool. To Potakai it has the same effect as light meditation. We had no idea Humans would react so strongly to it. Please, I offer our deepest regret."

Pahzj was sick with fear. Anata’ka had left them in his care and he had nearly allowed harm to come to them. No greater sin could happen to a Ménage than allowing injury to a member of his household. He called for others to quickly bring sjobaberry juice and cool damp cloths.

Uhura felt a cool compress against her forehead and tried to sit upright. The room was full of Potakai, each hovering and attempting to revive them. She looked over and saw that Kirk was already sitting up and drinking from a cup. Uhura felt a cup placed in her own hand and felt it guided up to her mouth. The liquid was thick and very sweet, but she felt immediate energy course through her system. The endorphin effects appeared to be on the wane. She could hear Pahzj begging for forgiveness and Kirk telling him it was all right. She looked over and made eye contact with him, smiling to let him know she was fine. He grinned back at her while still trying to calm their hosts. Finally, after many assurances they were well and had no need to seek a physician, they sat down to the meal Pahzj had originally announced.

***

Uhura gave herself a critical survey in the mirror and decided it was the best she could do. Tonight’s ensemble had to make a statement; all of Potakai would be in attendance to take measure of the Federation representatives. She was dressed in a long sheath gown made of a mother of pearl iridescent material, a long train of the same material fastened at either shoulder and draped down her bare back.

Potakai high fashion appeared to follow the ‘less is more’ philosophy, so Uhura had designed accordingly. The front of her dress had a plunging neckline that did not truly stop until the navel. She intended the soft blue reflection of her dress to play against the vibrant Federation blue outfit she had designed for Kirk. His jacket had deeply cut chevrons of gold and copper stitched across the upper back and shoulders to enhance his powerful build.

She had also decided to put a little extra drama into her makeup. She would never be able to outdo a noblewoman’s tattoos, but Uhura thought her efforts satisfactory. Potakai women were naturally tall and most wore flat sandals, however, Uhura had chosen a pair of stilettos to give her extra inches. Her final embellishment was styling her hair in a Vulcan motif with a twisted braid arched across the crown of her head. An ornate golden hair fan held everything securely in place.

Walking into the living area, she saw Kirk in his own finery. His back was to her and he was just finishing his mission update with Spock when he turned and froze. A slow grin spread across his face as he took in the sight of the woman in front of him. Uhura blushed under his scrutiny, but twirled around to show off, nevertheless. Spock asked was everything all right and it took Kirk a second to respond.

"Ah-yes, Mister Spock, everything’s fine. I just saw something that caught my attention for a moment. It’s time for us to leave for the reception; I’ll give you a full report in the morning."

"Very well, Captain. Please note that our sensors indicate a significant meteorological event should pass over your location later tonight. It will be loud, but otherwise relatively harmless."

"Thank you, Spock, we’ll be sure to pull the covers over our heads. Kirk out." Closing his communicator and slipping it into his jacket pocket, Kirk walked around the sofa to get a better view of his consort.

"Lieutenant, you’re absolutely beautiful. I suspect you’ll make all the other ladies jealous." He took her hands and held her at arm’s length, taking his time in admiring her.

"Thank you, Captain. I could say the same of you. I knew the color and cut of that outfit would look great on you. Golden feathers or not, you will be a favorite before the night is over."

Uhura felt giddy from the rush his attention triggered. She reached up to adjust his feather clip to a better angle and found herself leaning into him more than she intended. She looked into his eyes and saw a hunger there that unnerved her. He stood still under her ministrations, but broke contact and backed away as soon as she finished.

Uhura just smiled and pretended not to notice his lapse and the faintness she felt. Attracted to him or not, that one undisguised look of desire had scared her silly. Flirting was fine, she had remastered that skill, but the idea of following through and actually joining with a man had just sent her to the edge of panic. She had hoped the trust and desire she felt for him would be enough to counteract the fear. That hope was fading fast.

"Lieutenant, are you ready to go?" Composure restored and smile firmly in place, Kirk held out his arm for his consort to hold.

"Yes, sir, I can’t wait to see the show."

Kirk leaned over and whispered as Pahzj escorted them out, "Lieutenant, we *are* the show."

"Then I won’t miss anything, will I, sir?"

***

TBC

~ID'ic

Healing Touch Chapter 3 K/U [NC-17]

2010-02-16T21:08:00.003-06:00

Image courtesy of Paramount and Trekcore

Disclaimer: Paramount owns Star Trek. I only own my fantasies.

Beta: Sincere gratitude goes to: Nyotava, Bandicca, Zapp and Trekskitten for such wonderful betaing! Each of them brought fresh insight and used their unique expertise to make this story a reality.

Summary: A sequel to "My Faith in You," addressing Uhura's recovery from a brutal attack and the depths of Kirk's commitment to keep her in his world.

***

Uhura made her way down to Sickbay when McCoy summoned her from the Bridge. She was a little worried at being pulled off shift; it was unlike McCoy to change their routine. Perhaps Chris had told him of their debacle last night, maybe he was thinking of pulling her from duty altogether. She stopped just outside the Sickbay door and took a deep cleansing breath. She would not go in already agitated. Once calm and composed, Uhura entered to find McCoy waiting for her.

"Good Lieutenant, come on back to my office. I need to discuss something with you." McCoy smiled warmly, but Uhura saw the tinge of worry in his wise blue eyes.

She followed him into his office and took a seat. He seated himself on the edge of his desk and waited a moment before continuing to speak.

"Uhura, I need to clarify something as to where you are in your recovery process", he began.

Uhura sat up on the edge of her chair -- this did not sound good.

"As you know, you haven’t passed your pysch exam and the problem seems to stem around intimacy issues. Now, that is hardly surprising, considering the trauma you experienced. However, I may have led you to believe we were a lot closer to resolving these issues than the results indicate." He looked at her with guilt and sympathy.

"I don’t understand, Doctor McCoy. What are you trying to tell me? That I can’t pass my scan before I run out of time? That I’ll never pass? What?" Uhura felt her world begin to spiral away. How would she survive if Enterprise were taken away from her? If she lost all her friends here? If she lost her place on the Bridge with *him*?

"No, I’m not telling you any of those things, but I do want you to you to realize we need to consider a more aggressive approach in breaking down these barriers." The doctor spoke comfortingly and reached out to take her hand in his before continuing.

"Uhura, I need you to consider having a physical relationship with someone you feel close to –"

The comm officer pulled her hand out of McCoy's grasp and launched herself out of the chair. McCoy reached out and held her by each shoulder, preventing her from bolting out the door. She was surprised by the CMO's strength.

"Doctor McCoy, you've got to be out of your mind! I can barely even tolerate Sulu kissing me goodnight on the cheek without breaking into a cold sweat, and you want me to go to bed with someone?" Uhura asked incredulously.

"I don't mean just this minute, Uhura." McCoy spoke soothingly; he didn't like the note of panic he heard in her voice.

"Both you and I know you have several men interested in you right now. Each one thinks the world of you and would like to take it to the next level. I'm not saying throw their names into a hat and pick one, but if any of them were interesting to you before your attack, then consider them as an opportunity now."

McCoy stared into Uhura's frightened eyes and patted her softly on the cheek. She had quit struggling against his grip on her shoulders and crumpled back into her chair. A fine sheen of sweat had popped out on her face and she felt flushed.

"Doctor, I've pretty much told them all I'm not interested, and I'm not. Sulu keeps me company some evenings, but I don't see him in that light. He and Janice are still involved and I can't interfere there. Boma got angry because I wouldn't go out with him again after Bengali, but he has too much of a temper for me anyway. Geoffrey and I are friendly, but not really friends since we split up. He wants too much from me and I don't want to stir up those embers again. The other couple of guys, I wouldn't go out with on a dare, much less now." Uhura spoke softly, burying her face in her hands.

"Uhura," McCoy called her name and waited for her to look at him. "Isn't there anyone onboard you want to be with? Anyone who makes you forget about Bengali?"

His tone was pushing her to think and Uhura blanched at his words. He knew who she cared about; they had discussed her feelings for the Captain as a part of her therapy. She had told him how Kirk always made her feel safe and she trusted him above anyone else. What she hadn't done was mention how he also made her melt inside. How she ached to touch him and be touched by him. These things she failed to mention, yet somehow, she thought the doctor sensed them anyway.

"Doctor, I don't know – I can't think right now and I need to get back to the Bridge." She knew it sounded like an excuse and it was, but she had to get out of his office before he made her say who she wanted.

"All right, Uhura, you can go, but Spock wants you to stop by his quarters on your way back to the Bridge."

McCoy backed up and took pity on the Comm Officer. He could tell by the look in Uhura's eyes that she was scared she would blurt out Jim's name.

"Thank you, Doctor. I'll consider your advice. I really do want to stay on Enterprise." Uhura spoke as she hurriedly exited his office.

She was in such a hurry that she failed to ask the doctor why Spock wanted her to come by his quarters. Why wasn't he on the Bridge? He had not been there when she arrived herself for the beginning of the shift, but she had barely gotten to report before being summoned by McCoy. That thought left her standing outside the first officer's quarters. She buzzed and was beckoned inside.

Spock was seated at his desk, reviewing data microburst from Starfleet's diplomatic corps. She had taken the encoded transmissions herself and forwarded them to his quarters at the end of shift yesterday.

"Good Morning, Mister Spock. Doctor McCoy said you wished to see me?"

"Yes, Lieutenant, please come in and be seated." The Vulcan acknowledged her from his workspace.

"As you know, Enterprise has been ordered to Potakai Prime in order to represent the Federation in membership and coronation ceremonies."

"Yes, Sir. That was in the orders I logged in for the Captain yesterday." Uhura confirmed.

"Correct. However, what you aren't aware of is the fact that the Captain will be acting in the official capacity of Federation ambassador and will have the need of a consort. I have reviewed likely candidates and would like to recommend you for the position if you are interested. The choice is, of course, yours.

"The mission consists primarily of attending a week's worth of ceremonies, diplomatic functions and galas to celebrate Potakai's entry into the Federation and the ascendancy of the new ruler for the Potakai star system. Though you have not officially been released to full duty, Doctor McCoy has certified you are indeed well enough to perform in such a capacity."

Uhura did a double-take at the mention of McCoy's involvement. If he knew Spock was considering her for this mission, what was he trying to tell her? Or what was Spock? The mission was a week long, practically all the time she had left before she had to pass her pysch exam. She would be planet-bound with the captain. No, she wouldn't go there, they couldn't be conspiring to get her alone with him, could they?

She noticed that Spock was waiting for her answer. Until she spoke, Uhura had no idea what she would actually say.

"I'm very interested in this mission, Mister Spock."

To his credit, Spock did not react to her statement. Instead, he collected the data chips off his desk and handed them to her.

"Very good. The Captain is in briefing room two reviewing some of this data already. He has relinquished command to me for the duration of the mission so he can prepare for it satisfactorily. Please join him there and begin your own assimilation of the data. You will find the Potakai an interesting species, with many fascinating characteristics."

"Yes, Sir. Thank you for the opportunity, Mister Spock." Uhura gave Spock a genuine smile and left for the briefing room.

What she expected to find there was anybody's guess. The Captain, of course, but she didn't know if he was expecting her or someone else. McCoy had told her to find someone, while at the same time Spock was recommending she beam down with the Captain for a week of diplomatic functions, with the CMO's approval no less. Was it as it seemed? Was the Captain aware of it? Uhura did not dare hazard a guess to those questions. For the moment, she was relying on training to get her through her shift. She would take her cue from the Captain's reaction to her assignment and go with it. Later, after the initial shock had worn off, she would dissect it emotionally.

Kirk was deep in study when Uhura arrived. He looked up with a curious expression. Once he recognized her, his look became pensive, waiting for her to speak.

"Good morning, Captain, Mister Spock says you need a ‘belle for the ball’, so I've been given the opportunity to be your consort during the Potakai mission. Do you think you can stand me for a whole week?" 'Oh well, might as well jump right in', she thought.

The captain's expression changed from pensive to composed, seemingly coming to terms with something. Finally, he smiled, deciding to play along.

"Oh, just like Spock to wax poetic about a mission, but Lieutenant, you might consider whether you can stand me. We have at least two galas to attend, and I'm afraid we'll be expected to dance at them all. I'm a bit rusty there, so be prepared to dodge my left feet."

"Hardly, Captain, I've seen you dance and there's nothing for me to worry about there."

At the easy banter between them, she could feel herself relax. The Captain seemed perfectly at ease with her being chosen for the mission, and she could sense nothing forced in his behavior. In fact, he now seemed more relaxed than she could remember in months. Of course, they finally had something to do other than patrol dead space. Even a diplomatic mission, not always his favorite, was an improvement over what they had been doing for the last three months.

"I'll remind you of that the first time I step on you." He teased then settled back into seriousness.

"All right, Lieutenant, I'd like to cover Potakai world and political history this morning and move into physiology after lunch. Tomorrow, I'd like to cover Potakai customs, protocols and social structure. The next day we'll review and go over the week's itinerary. Do you have any questions?"

"No sir, other than do you want to start with world or political history?" She flashed a smile before sitting down at the computer console and started bringing up the records they would soon know in their sleep.

***

The morning had gone by so fast that Uhura was startled when Kirk called a halt, declaring he was hungry for lunch.

"Take a break, Lieutenant, and give your brain a moment to soak this stuff in." He smiled that little boy grin.

"Go grab some lunch and a little quiet-time before we start the afternoon session. Doctor McCoy is going to join us and explain Potakai physiology."

He stood and stretched, just missing the look of doubt and anxiety that flashed across Uhura's face.

Oh my God, how was she going to handle an afternoon of McCoy analyzing her every action? Yes, he might be coming to explain physiology, but she knew he would be side-barring a study in psychology. His ice-blue eyes would be dissecting her the whole time, trying to read her reactions to the captain. The morning had been so fun; he had made even the dry history data interesting, asking challenging questions and her opinion on many points. Well, at least she was forewarned and had time to get her game face prepared.

"Yes sir, I'm ready for a long break myself." She spoke aloud, squashing anything but a smile from her expression.

They walked out together, but parted at the lift. She knew he would go to the Bridge. Relinquish command? Yeah, right - then he would probably talk Spock into going to lunch with him.

***

Uhura was back early; no one else had made it to the briefing room yet. She sorted through the data files and prepared them for the next session. Hopefully, the afternoon would pass as quickly as the morning had.

When the door slid open, Uhura looked up, praying it was the captain and not McCoy. Unfortunately, her prayers weren't answered this time, as the lean form of the CMO entered the room.

"Good afternoon, Lieutenant, I'm glad you accepted Spock's offer for this mission." He smiled warmly, but there was a studying look in his eyes. He seemed to be scanning her intently.

"Yes sir, I'm glad as well, though it sounded as if you also had a hand in my selection." She replied with just a hint of challenge in her tone.

"Maybe a little. I thought some mission time might do you some good, though it might interfere with what we discussed this morning …or maybe not…" McCoy challenged back himself, canting his brow and tilting his head, so like Spock, yet not.

Before she could respond, the door swooshed open and Kirk walked in. Noticing the tenseness of Uhura's posture, he took in the scene and made his way to his seat. Keenly aware of what subject might have caused her discomfort, a slow anger infused him. He had thought he could keep his temper reined in while they covered the material, but he was quickly losing that bet.

"Good afternoon, Doctor, are you prepared to go over the Potakai data with us?" The Captain's tone was neutral, but both Uhura and McCoy sensed the coolness in his manner.

McCoy stuttered around a bit, uncomfortable with Jim's distance since their argument. He had hoped that Kirk's request for his involvement in this briefing had meant his anger had abated.

Though Uhura knew McCoy couldn't tell, the Captain's demeanor was markedly colder than what it had been during their morning session. Was he angry with McCoy, Uhura wondered, or had something happened during their break to cause the turnabout? From McCoy's reaction, she gathered the issue was between the Captain and CMO.

"Yes Sir. I'm ready when you are." McCoy answered meekly. He knew Jim wouldn't tolerate anything but business when he was in this state of mind. Jim hated to feel trapped, and right now, he knew Jim felt as if McCoy had engineered this whole mission to force him into dealing with his feelings toward Uhura. Of course, he hadn't, but he knew how to take advantage of a great opportunity when he saw one. Getting Spock to agree had been risky, but worth it. Yet, McCoy knew that it made Jim all the angrier to have Spock as the doctor's ally instead of his own.

"Good, then let's begin." Kirk ordered.

***

The afternoon wasn't as enjoyable as the morning had been, but Uhura learned just as much. Potakai Prime was a class M world, with vast oceans, but somewhat smaller than Earth. Its lighter and smaller metal core produced less gravity than what they would be used to. Both she and the captain would be a great deal stronger while on the planet. They would have to bear that in mind when dealing with the Potakai; Starfleet would frown upon accidentally hurting a member of the native population.

The Potakai were a true symbiotic species: when they pair-bonded, their neural pathways merged into nearly a single mind. Each personality remained distinct, but the interaction between mates was so integrated, they could share thoughts from far away. They connected emotionally as well as telepathically. The connectivity was almost always restricted to within the bond, but there were documented cases of unrestricted telepathy within Potakai history. Some cases were congenital and some were trauma induced. The dowager appeared to be an example of the latter. She witnessed the assassination of the last Emperor, her bond-mate, right before her eyes. They had not been bonded long, but the trauma was so severe she had been catatonic for a month before returning to consciousness with a vengeance.

The Potakai were susceptible to social imprinting, but it did not appear to follow familial bloodlines. In fact, since the Potakai practiced crèche child rearing, family bonds between parent and child were one of their weakest relationships. It was not uncommon for a child to never know who his biological parents were. Instead, strong bonds formed between the child and their crèche mothers, who were always a member of the Ménage caste.

Later, as the child grew and began to show an interest in the world, the child was placed in a household exhibiting kindred interests. It was from that association that a child eventually became imprinted, except for the Warrior caste. If a child exhibited warrior behaviors, he or she was moved to a larger, more authoritarian type of crèche. It was from there the child matured before migrating to a formal branch of the Potakai military.

Uhura sat back and listened to Doctor McCoy's description of the Potakai digestive system, not one of the more interesting topics of the afternoon, and realized she had not been under scrutiny from the surgeon, as she had feared. In fact, it was the CMO who had been under scrutiny most of the session. Kirk had quizzed and challenged him to explain every detail covered in the files. The CMO had been too hard-pressed keeping up with the stream of questions flung his way to have time to study her. She had tried to interrupt with a question of her own every so often in order to mellow out the mood of the room. Whatever was at the heart of the friction between the captain and doctor, it was not conducive to a relaxing lecture. Uhura was glad when the session came to an end.

"Thank you, Doctor. I believe we've covered all the material provided. You may go." Kirk summarily dismissed the surgeon.

McCoy looked startled at the quick dismissal and a bit sad. He tried for a weak smile at them both as he stood to leave.

"Uh, you're welcome, sir. If I can help in any other way, please don't hesitate to call." His speech was stilted, a note of hurt in his voice.

When Kirk did not look up from his padd, McCoy glanced her way and gave Uhura a small nod before he turned and left -- dejection evident in every step. Uhura took this as an opportunity to start gathering her own notes and data chips, moving around the table, trying to do anything to cover the awkwardness of McCoy's exit. She had nearly finished when Kirk looked up and studied her for a long, quiet moment.

"I'm sorry you had to witness that. I'm afraid the Doctor and I aren't on good terms at the moment. I should have done a better job of putting my personal feelings aside." He sighed and ran his hands over his face, trying to wring the tiredness from it.

"I'm sure you and Doctor McCoy will resolve the issue between you both soon." She smiled gently at him from across the table. The sadness he allowed to show on his face was telling.

"But, you know, as captain, you always have the advantage over him. Maybe next time you could grant him a bit of grace." She wasn't sure how he would react to that last part. Getting lectured from a subordinate on how to 'play well with others' wasn't something starship captains generally tolerated.

Kirk arched a brow, and then smiled rather sheepishly before speaking.

"Reprimand duly noted, Lieutenant. I promise to do better." He stood and began to gather his own notes.

"Go ahead and get out of here. I'll see you in the morning and we can start all over again." He grinned and motioned with his head toward the door.

Uhura didn't need to be told twice; she smiled as she let out the breath she had held waiting for his reaction before slipping out the door.

***

The next couple of days were a whirlwind of briefings and preparations. Spock was right when he stated the Potakai were an interesting people. She could hardly wait to meet them in person.

The images they had of the Potakai showed a handsome race of tall, lithe humanoids, with hair reminiscent of feathers. The iridescent hues of their feathery locks a striking contrast against the dark purple indigo of their skin.

Each caste wore their hair in a unique fashion. The Aristocracy wore theirs long and unfettered, while the Warrior caste kept theirs cropped except for a 'V' line which met at the front. The Citizen caste wore theirs mid-length and usually restrained when in public. Lastly, the Ménage caste appeared to keep theirs neatly shorn.

The Potakai also believed in tattooing as a way of expressing loyalties and relationships. It was not uncommon to see high ranking Potakai almost completely covered in clan symbols. Each icon represented a clan affiliation or past action of the bearer.

They were a flamboyant race, liking huge, ornate architecture. They also appeared to be much taken with pageantry. Uhura was sure the ceremonies they would be attending would be spectacular.

Uhura and Kirk had agreed she would be in charge of wardrobe for the mission. The captain had no qualms in deferring to the Lieutenant's more refined eye for style. Since the Potakai were entranced with color and decoration, both knew that dress would be a factor on which they would be judged.

"Lieutenant, just promise to keep me out of pink and anything with ruffles please." Kirk pled only half jokingly; he really didn't want to go 'too native'.

"Don't worry, sir, I promise you'll look strikingly handsome in everything I select." Uhura said in mock seriousness. That left her a lot of wiggle room, as she thought he would look handsome in anything, or nothing for that matter -- Oh my -- she quickly coached her face to not betray that last thought.

***

Uhura had been so busy with everything that she hardly had a moment of downtime. Palmer had relieved her on the Bridge so she hadn't seen Sulu or Chekov at all. She had managed to grab some lunch with Christine on the last day before they beamed down that evening. It had been awkward at first, but they had eventually gotten past it. However, Chris threw the conversation into a much more complex subject when she asked Uhura how she felt about going on the mission with the Captain.

"I'm fine with it, Christine. I know we can't be more than coworkers, so I won't allow anything else to get in the way." Uhura thought it sounded good anyway.

"You're preaching to the choir, Ny. I wrote that party line, try again." Chris challenged skeptically.

"Well, what option do I have, Chris? It's not going to happen, no matter what I want, so I need to put those thoughts behind me." Uhura hissed back, the mess hall wasn't the place for this conversation.

"You realize Doctor McCoy could get into big trouble for allowing you to go on this mission before you're released back to full duty, don't you?" Chris changed tactics.

Uhura looked up from her lunch, shocked at the head nurse's revelation.

"No, I didn't, but Mister Spock cleared me also. Surely he wouldn't agree to something that would get McCoy into trouble." Uhura whispered.

"Oh, Ny, wake up." It was Christine's turn to hiss.

"Can't you see what's going on here? Spock and Leonard are trying to get you off ship with Captain Kirk so he'll even consider being the one to help you -- "

"Help me with what?" Uhura blushed, but Christine couldn't tell.

"You know what, don't play dumb. I know what McCoy talked to you about. That's why the Captain is mad at McCoy. In fact he's furious because he got Spock involved in this too. You're almost out of time and you haven't passed your pysch scan. Len's been blaming himself, saying he must have misjudged your progress, or that he should have transferred you to Doctor Yangstra. Something the Captain forbade him to do, mind you, and now he blames Len for your status." Christine's tone was low, but carried an edge of righteous indignation against McCoy's treatment.

"Christine, I don't blame Doctor McCoy. He's been wonderful to me and I felt much more comfortable talking to him than I ever would Doctor Yangstra. I think the Captain is really angry with himself, though he has no reason to be. No one is to blame for what happened to me on Bengali except the Orions.

I admit, I thought it was just too coincidental for me to be picked for this mission after my conversation with Doctor McCoy, but the Captain's behavior has been so relaxed and 'normal', I just couldn't believe it to be so."

"Oh, he knows about it all right, but he's not agreed to anything. He blew up and ordered McCoy to tell you how far from passing you really are. McCoy hadn't told you because it would only make you more anxious. Then, this mission came up and McCoy went to Mister Spock with the idea for you to be consort. Spock agreed and presented your name to Captain Kirk. Now he's hardly talking to either of them." Chris whispered angrily. She thought it extremely unfair for the Captain to hold the two men she cared about the most, responsible for this mess.

"Oh my God. I knew there was something going on between him and McCoy, and now that you mention it, I haven't seen him with Mister Spock either. Spock certainly hasn't been involved in our briefings.

Christine, this isn't going to work. I know how strongly the Captain feels about this. I felt it during our meld. He won't give in and I don't want him to. Yes, we have feelings for each other, but to pursue them will just make it harder on us both. How can someone expect us to start something like that and then just turn it off once the mission is over? I don't think I could." Uhura bit back harshly, this was bordering on ridiculous.

"Who says it has to stop? That would be up to you both. Yes, this is desperation talking, but Ny, you're out of options. Is there anyone else you would allow to touch you? If so, speak up or go to him. I know it's awkward and embarrassing, but it's the truth. Unless and until you are comfortable being with someone, you won't benchmark against your scan on file. You were comfortable with sex and men in general before, and the scan will expect those same reactions. Theoretical acceptance won't work here. You have to 'know' it before the scan can register it. Just like you 'knew' it when you took the original scan. Anything less will get you kicked off the ship and no one wants that.

"The Captain knows what's at stake, Ny. He won't let that happen. Hell, he's bent so many regs up till now just to keep you here I can't see what's one more." Chris said seethingly.

Uhura said nothing for a moment; she knew the regs had nothing to do with it. Captain Kirk used his own code of conduct to guide his actions, and so long as they meshed with Starfleet's, life was good. However, on the occasions when the regs had conflicted with his own ethics, the regs always lost. But what they failed to understand was that being intimate with a member of his crew was in direct violation of one of Kirk's fundamental beliefs. That was why he had backed away from her before her attack and again as soon as he could, after it. Could he somehow rationalize getting close to her within his own mind?

"Chris, let it go. I'm not taking this mission for my own sake, but as my duty. If something happens, great. If not, then I'll have had one great last mission before I'm transferred. I can't look at it any other way. I can't afford to think about personal matters during a mission."

Uhura spoke with finality and Christine knew she needed to drop the subject. At least Uhura now knew the whole story. McCoy would throw her in the brig if he knew what she had said, she had broken a myriad of ethical regulations, but she didn't care. Too much was riding on this for all parties not to be on the same page.

"All right, have a safe mission and try to enjoy yourself at all the parties." Chris smiled wistfully. She could be jealous of that part of the mission anyway. Uhura had shown her all the beautiful gowns she had picked out to wear at the galas and was seriously envious.

"I'll try." Uhura grinned back, thankful to be ending their conversation on a better note.

"I've got to go pack now. See you when I get back, okay? I'll have lots of stories to tell, I'm sure."

***

Kirk was just finishing packing his own kit. He could have let the yeoman do it, but they were still hours from Potakai and it gave him something to do. Uhura had outdone herself in the wardrobe department. He would be clothed in opulent silks and soft suedes practically the entire mission. She had kept her word and ensured the colors were within his tolerances, lots of vibrant Starfleet blue, along with deeper blue blacks and rich forest greens, all with chevrons of white, gold and copper embellishments. He was very interested in seeing what she had chosen for herself. She obviously intended to coordinate with him because she had labeled each outfit for the event at which he should wear it.

The door chime interrupted his musings. Kirk called the visitor in, knowing it would be Spock or McCoy. He wasn't eager to talk to either. McCoy stepped into Kirk's quarters and surveyed the half-packed contents on the captain's bunk.

"Well, won't you be handsome." McCoy quipped playfully. He wanted to make peace with Jim before he beamed down to the planet, but didn't think that would happen, especially if he said what he came to say to Kirk.

"What can I do for you, Doctor?" Kirk ignored McCoy's opening remark and cut to the chase. He knew this wasn't a social call, but rather another attempt by the CMO to convince him to get involved with Uhura.

"Nothing, Jim. I just wanted to see you before you beamed down and tell you I'm sorry for letting you down in my care for Uhura."

"Don't you think you should be apologizing to her instead of me? She's the one who will suffer the consequences." Kirk threw back coldly. He knew it would cut McCoy deeply, but he didn't care at the moment. He wanted someone else to feel as badly as he did right now.

"I have, Jim." McCoy answered softly. He wouldn't rise to the bait Jim threw his way. McCoy knew Kirk was trying to get him angry so they could lash out at each other and he would storm off. But he wouldn't do that this time, too much would be unresolved and lost forever. Instead, he clamped down on his own anger and refused to let it grow. Spock would have been proud.

"And I think you'll suffer too if she leaves Enterprise, Jim. Are you ready to concede that? If you can't see yourself past your own issues to try and help Uhura with hers, then she will be lost to you for good." This time McCoy spoke gently, not viciously as he had thrown the same point in Kirk's face a few days ago.

Kirk hesitated for a moment in his packing, but refused to look at McCoy.

"As I said, Doctor, that's not an option I'm allowed." The captain's statement was laced with bitterness.

"The Jim Kirk I know makes his own allowances. I've seen him throw himself in the line of fire many times in order to save a member of his crew. This really isn't so different, except instead of him risking physical injury in his attempt, this time it's emotional. Something I can't patch up so easily in Sickbay." McCoy's tone was gentle and tinged with understanding.

"No, you can't." Jim answered softly. McCoy wasn't sure if he even realized he had spoken out loud.

"But, if he tries to save his crew member, he just needs to remember why he's risking himself. Because, in the long run, maybe he saves himself too." McCoy still spoke gently, as if trying to calm a spooked stallion.

Jim turned and looked McCoy in the eye. There was no anger on his face, only pain. McCoy knew he was warring within himself as to which was the greater crime, allowing Uhura to be transferred, or risking his command and his heart in an effort to save her.

"He'll make the right choice when he's faced with it. He always does." With that, McCoy reached over and squeezed Jim's shoulder. He gave his friend an encouraging smile and left him to finish packing.

***

Still two hours out from Potakai Prime, Kirk found himself on the Bridge. He and Uhura had covered all the material they had been given and he could not sit in his quarters any longer. McCoy's words were eating at him just as the CMO intended. At least, on the Bridge, he could distract himself from the war going on between his head and his heart.

Spock had relinquished the Conn to Kirk and almost eagerly taken the science station away from Chekov. Kirk smiled to himself; the Vulcan hated command as much as Kirk loved it.

Therefore, he was startled to find Spock standing next to him now.

"Captain, we are being welcomed by the Dowager of Potakai Prime." Spock informed Kirk calmly.

Kirk looked over his shoulder toward Lieutenant Palmer and got a shake of her head in response.

"What do you mean, Spock? Are they transmitting over your scanning frequency?" Kirk asked.

"No, Sir, I'm in direct contact with the Dowager herself. She wishes me to bid you welcome to her star system." Spock answered with a raised brow.

"I'm afraid the Federation diplomatic corps understated the dowager's abilities by some magnitude." Spock elaborated in his most deadpan tone.

"I see. Please convey my thanks to the Dowager, Mister Spock, and tell her I look forward to meeting her later this evening." Kirk rose to the occasion. Was it a show of power or just eagerness for contact? He thought to himself.

"She says to tell you, perhaps it is both, Captain." Spock intoned, nonplussed at being an uninformed communications device.

Kirk couldn't suppress the smile that tried to take over his face. He knew he should be concerned that his thoughts could be so readily discerned from such a vast distance, but remarkably, it was the humor of the situation that took precedence. It was too late to do anything but batten down the hatches and weather the storm.

"The Dowager says the weather on Potakai is spectacular at this time of the year and she is sure you will enjoy any sailing you attempt while there." Again Spock translated in the mostly one-sided conversation.

Kirk laughed out loud, much to the confusion of the rest of the Bridge crew.

"Tell the Dowager, I'm sure I shall, Mister Spock." He continued to chuckle to himself.

He watched, as Spock seemed to go within himself for brief moment before answering.

"She is gone from my mind now, Captain." Spock reported. "It was a fascinating experience; however, I would not want to be the subject of her curiosity. She respected my shields, but I have no doubt they would not have withstood any serious attempt by her to break them."

"So, I should approach this mission with an extreme open mind, is that what you're telling me Spock?" Kirk teased.

"Since you are not trained to shield your thoughts, the Dowager will undoubtedly consider your mind 'open', Captain. If she has possessed this talent for over three hundred years, I'm sure she has come to depend on it as a second nature." The science officer warned him.

"Point noted, Mister Spock, but there is little I can do about this now. Starfleet was aware of her telepathic abilities, or some of them, when they ordered us to travel here. I can hardly back out now. And, if it's as you say, I'm sure the Dowager is used to all types of transient thoughts that pass through a person's mind. I'll just try to squelch any unflattering ones." Kirk attempted to mollify the Vulcan's concern.

***

TBC

~ID'ic

Healing Touch Chapter 2 K/U [NC-17]

2010-02-14T18:47:00.004-06:00

Image: Courtesy of Paramount and Trekcore.

Disclaimer: Paramount owns Star Trek. I only own my fantasies.

Summary: A sequel to "My Faith in You," addressing Uhura's recovery from a brutal attack and the depths of Kirk's commitment to keep her in his world.

~~~~

An hour later found a refreshed captain and first officer in briefing room two, awaiting the transmission from Starfleet.

"Go ahead, Uhura, we're here." Kirk told the viewscreen mic.

"Yes, sir." He heard as the screen resolved itself into an intense figure wearing a Federation Diplomatic insignia.

"Captain Kirk." The figure spoke.

"I'm Trask Vitok, Diplomatic Attaché to Federation membership. You are now aware that your presence has been specifically requested by the Dowager of Potakai during the Ascendancy Ceremonies of her grandson to the throne of their newly united system, as well as their concurrent formal acceptance of Federation membership."

"For this mission, your official rank will be Ambassador and Mister Spock will be Captain of Enterprise. The rationale will become clear as we continue this briefing." Trask continued as Kirk glanced over at Spock skeptically. Taking command away from him for any reason did not sit well.

"The Potakai entry into the Federation opens a vast quadrant of space, both under Potakai dominion and further beyond. Since they have been embroiled in a civil war for over three hundred years, we have kept our presence to a minimum. However, their strategic position near the Kzin territory is also a strong factor in making this work.

"Our anthropological and diplomatic teams describe the Potakai people as a humanoid race with intrinsic mental pair bonding relationships. They are extremely susceptible to social imprinting. As such, they have developed a highly intricate caste society, consisting of an Aristocracy, Citizen, Warrior and Ménage class structure. Only the Aristocracy and Citizen castes are considered completely vested adults, with full decision and pair bonding privileges.

"It is because of this caste mentality that you, Captain, will be ranked as our ambassador for this mission. A starship commander would be considered a member of the Warriors’ caste and not a full citizen; they often use the term 'adult' in this context. However, to be more easily considered a full-fledged Federation representative by the Potakai, we felt it prudent to make allowances for these cultural differences.

"It will also be required for you to have a consort. Again, even though the Potakai know the full scope and diversity of the Federation worlds, it was thought it would allow the Potakai Aristocracy to more readily accept you as an equal. All Aristocracy caste members of significant rank are pair bonded. They are not considered stable without a mate. I'm sure a member of your crew can assist you there. Grace under pressure and quick thinking skills are a must, as the Potakai can be somewhat easy to take offense.

"You will be the only Humans on planet. Since peace had yet to be declared, all Federation negotiations were conducted off-planet. We have yet to establish an Embassy dirt-side; the Dowager preferred we wait until all ceremonies were completed.

"Now, all this foundation leads me to explain why you were chosen. The Dowager Anata'ka has requested you specifically. During the negotiations she requested dossiers on all active fleet commanders. As a good faith gesture, we complied with public and professional bio histories. Once the Federation and Potakai Councils agreed upon membership, the Dowager requested you as the best example of the Federation's quest for exploration.

"Captain, Anata'ka is an extremely important entity in that sector and one we desperately want to cultivate. She is an anomaly within her species. The death of her spouse triggered the civil war she has finally ended. Normally, Potakai mates weaken and die within days of each other. However, the Dowager grew exponentially stronger, both physically and mentally, upon the death of hers. Her lifespan has lengthened many times over a normal Potakai lifespan and her mental powers are said to be exceptional.

"Potakai pairbonds are so embedded; to talk with one mate is to talk to the other. This telepathy is normally exclusive to the couple alone; however, the Dowager's powers are said to have been turned outward, quite capable of being felt from a vast distance. The Potakai people see her as omnipotent and are careful not to draw her attention in a negative way.

"What the political ramifications will be when power is transferred to her grandson, Ramsha'ka, is unknown and the second prime goal of your mission. We know next to nothing about him. Anata'ka has kept him under tight security since naming him heir to the throne. Your contact will be the first Federation interaction with the new ruler.

"Enterprise should be four days away at maximum warp. The week of ceremonies and celebrations leading up to the transference of power to Ramsha'ka begins in five days. That's cutting it close, and the reason you could not wait for the USS Sandshark to relieve you on patrol, but I'm sure Enterprise is up to the challenge.

"Several data packets addressing Potakai customs, protocols, history, politics, physiology and social structure will be speed-burst to Enterprise following acknowledgment of this transmission. A complete schedule of events and ceremonies for the week will be attached as well. I suggest you transfer command over to your Exec immediately so you can begin preparations. Good luck. Vitok out."

Kirk sat back and tried to digest what he had just been ordered to do. Why did she request him? Example of Starfleet's quest for exploration, what did the Potakai want to explore? Kirk didn't relish the role of ambassador, but felt he could perform adequately when necessary. Most diplomats gave him a headache, talking in circles and playing endless word games. He could only hope the Potakai were tired of couched phrases and ready for a more direct approach.

"All right, Mister Spock, we know what the mission is; now I need a consort. Please compile a list of three or four candidates with the appropriate background for this type of thing and let's review it together tonight." Kirk said resignedly.

"Very well, Captain, I shall bring it to your quarters. I find the attaché's comments regarding the dowager fascinating. I shall be most interested to review the incoming data."

"I have no doubt, Mister Spock. Let’s go mind the store until it gets here."

***

Poor Chekov, the young Russian had no idea what the next week would have in store for him. Uhura was beginning to feel sorry for the ensign, although she wasn't primarily to blame for his moment in the spotlight. When they had started the game of truth or dare, he hadn't been the focal point, but as the game wound down, Chekov's name just kept surfacing with nearly every dare. Unfortunately for him, not too many of the women attending the bull session in the comm officer's quarters felt in a confiding mood.

The sympathy for Pavel was the strongest emotion Uhura had felt all evening. It had been her idea to have the party. She had smiled and even laughed with the others, but somehow she felt isolated from them. It was if she were watching everyone from a remote location instead of being in the middle of her best friends.

Why was it she could do so well during the day and yet bottom out so deeply in the evenings? Was it because her days held purpose and her nights did not? Was it because without her duty she had nothing and, more importantly, no one?

"Unnhh, it's late and I've got to go in early." Charlene Masters complained and brought Uhura out of her reverie.

"Oh, I think I drank too much." Liz Palmer whined as she tried to stand up.

"Drink two glasses of water before you go to bed and come see me in Sickbay if you have a hangover." Christine counseled the other tall blonde-haired woman in the room.

"Yeah, right, I think I'm going to shove off too, Ny. See you tomorrow. Thanks for having the party." The swing-shift comm officer intoned as she delicately made her way to the door.

"Come on, Princess, I'll walk you to your quarters on the way to mine." Charlene clucked sympathetically, last time it had been she who had drank too much.

A few of the others had left earlier, and now with the departure of Masters and Palmer, only Chris and Uhura were left.

"I'll help you clear the trash before I go." Chris offered as she scanned the condition of the room.

"Thanks, I don't know how six women can create such a mess in just a couple of hours." Uhura said as she too surveyed the array of glasses and snack bowls littered across her quarters.

"No problem. It's a small price to pay for a night out with good friends." Chris said brightly. Unlike the others, she had stayed away from the alcohol. When Uhura didn't respond right away, a frown crossed Christine's face.

"Ny, what's wrong? You hardly were the life of the party and I don't think you even had a turn in truth or dare – you love that game."

"Christine, I'm fine, just a little tired is all. I guess I just didn't have the heart to set up poor Chekov in some silly dare. He seemed to take the brunt of tonight's game." Uhura tried to be casual in her reply.

"You didn't have to pick a dare, a truth is always an option." Chris reminded her gently.

She knew Uhura was still struggling emotionally as an aftermath of her attack. Only Chris, McCoy, Mister Spock and Captain Kirk knew exactly what had happened to her on the station. The last three months had been a difficult time for Christine’s best friend, a time for her to try to put the pieces of her shattered emotions back into some semblance of order.

Tonight was the first time Uhura had invited her closest girlfriends over for one of her previously regular bull sessions. An opportunity to laugh and cry over whatever any of them happened to be experiencing at that moment in their life. Yet, tonight Nyota hadn't mentioned anything about her life. Instead, she had pretended to be absorbed in the stories of the other women. They had tried to draw her out and get her involved in the conversations, but she had remained mostly on the periphery.

"What kind of truth do you want to hear?" Uhura asked tiredly. She didn't know what had possessed her to say that; introspection wasn't high on her list at the moment.

Christine seemed a bit shocked as well, but was encouraged her friend attempted to reach out to someone. This Uhura was much more reserved and distant from her friends. The head nurse desperately wanted her old fun-loving and carefree friend back again.

"Oh, I dunno. How about explaining why the Captain sometimes calls you Penda, instead of Nyota, like the rest of us do?"

Chris knew she was taking a risk in broaching something that touched upon Bengali, but she felt Uhura was ready to talk to someone about a little of it. Uhura had to realize that the only time Christine could have heard him use that name was during the night he brought her back from the station. When he was acting as her emotional anchor while she was suffering through the terror attacks the Orions had conditioned her to feel.

Uhura froze in the act of tossing a collection of glasses in the recycler. She seemed to take a deep breath before continuing with the chore.

"Because he has a good memory." Uhura finally replied.

"That's hardly an answer." Chris pushed.

Uhura looked hard at her friend, then shrugged her shoulders and sat down on the sofa.

"Okay, here's the whole of it. Remember when you first came aboard and you had your own one-on-one interview with the Captain?" Uhura asked, waiting until Chris nodded before continuing.

"Good. Well, during my interview with him, he asked what brought me out into space and I told him how my Bibi, my grandmother, had advised me to follow the song I heard --"

At Christine's confused look, Uhura explained.

"When I was a little girl, I spent much of my summers with my Bibi on whatever site she happened to be excavating – she was an archeologist. Anyway, one night I was sitting outside, humming a song and Bibi asked me what I was singing. I told her it was what the stars were singing to me. Well, you'd think she would have laughed at such a story coming from a five-year-old, but instead she said ‘Penda, always listen to the stars, they know your future.' I was named after my Bibi, but only she called me Penda. It always made me feel special to hear her call me that name, something she and I alone shared.

When I got older, I understood she meant I should follow my dreams. Something she had not done. She always wanted to go off-world and explore other ruins and civilizations, but an early marriage and several children always took precedence over her dream.

She died in a cave-in at a site in Egypt when I was seventeen. From that point forward, I decided I would go into space and live my dream, not just think about it. When the Captain called me Penda, he did so to make me feel special and to remind me of my dream. I told him that story over three years ago and he still remembered – so that is the answer to the big mystery." Uhura sighed and shook her head slightly.

"Granted, the Captain has a good memory, but don't dismiss the sentiment he was trying to share with you. He was trying to make you feel special and remind you of why you came into space, but maybe he was also offering himself as a sort of replacement for your Bibi. Someone you could count on and share secrets with, someone who would look out for you." Christine offered to her friend, trying to crack the wall of indifference she sensed.

"Nyota, I saw and heard him with you that night he brought you back from the station. It's not any of my business, but he didn't act like just 'a captain'. He acted like a man who was scared he was going to lose someone he cared about very much. If that's the case, don't toss it away –" She stopped as Uhura laughed, a rueful and unpleasant sound.

"I'm not tossing anything away. He won't let me near him. I know he cares, but that's as far as he will take it. I can be near him, but I can’t have him. Isn't that ironic? Right now, I have absolutely no interest in any man except the one who won't touch me. Isn't that pathetic?"

She stopped at the look that came over Christine's face, a look of shame and embarrassment.

"Oh God, Chris, I'm sorry! I didn't mean that like it came out."

Uhura wanted to throw herself out the shuttlebay doors for indulging in that moment of self-pity. Now, she had promptly called her friend pathetic for carrying a torch for their first officer.

"No, Ny, you're right. It is pathetic to crave someone who does not return the desire. At least you know the Captain has feelings toward you and might respond if regulations didn't forbid it. I don't even have that, yet still I moon over Mister Spock. I would change it if I could." She glanced around the room to ensure everything was tidy before turning to the door.

"Goodnight, Nyota, thanks for the night out – "

"Chris! I'm sorry. Please don't leave like this. You know I would never say anything to hurt you. You're my best friend!" Uhura rushed on, desperate to repair the injury she had caused.

"I'm not angry, Ny." Chris said softly as she caressed Uhura's cheek. "Whether you meant to or not, the point is true in my case. Just don't let it become your fate as well. Admire the Captain, but find someone who is available to love. He will always take care of you, but he will never give himself to you so long as he is your commanding officer."

The nurse gave her a sad smile and left, the swoosh of the door the only sound marking her exit.

"Damn," Uhura hissed as she tossed herself down on her bunk.

***

Kirk had just finished recording his log entry when the door chime alerted him of a visitor.

"Come." He beckoned and was heartened to see the first officer was prompt as usual. "Good evening, Spock." He smiled and motioned the Vulcan to take the seat across from him.

"Good evening, Captain, I have prepared a list of consort candidates." Spock intoned solemnly as he handed his padd over to the captain. He had not chosen to sit.

Kirk smiled as he took the padd and began to scan Spock's recommendations. The smile disappeared quickly though, to be replaced by a series of emotions -- confusion, anger and finally, betrayal. Only one name was on the padd -- Uhura's.

"Is this your *logical* recommendation, First Officer?" Kirk asked in a cold voice, looking up with a hard stare.

"No, Captain, but still a valid one." The Vulcan replied calmly.

"So, McCoy has gotten you on his side." Kirk began heatedly, only to be cut off by the Vulcan.

"The doctor has discussed the fitness of the crew with me, as a part of our professional duties, Captain. The fact that Lieutenant Uhura's emotional status is in question was naturally discussed--"

"And, of course, you discussed his solution to her dilemma I'm sure." Kirk bit back angrily over Spock's explanation.

"He did tell me of your conversation last evening and your negative reaction to his suggested treatment plan." The Vulcan continued delicately.

Spock was not in the habit of agreeing with the CMO, and broaching this subject with the captain was extremely uncomfortable. Only the knowledge of what he had felt between the two of them in the meld gave Spock the resolve to consider McCoy's idea as worthy of exploration. And one thing more, Spock was beginning to suspect that Kirk and Uhura might have suffered lasting effects from the meld they had shared. Jim had been restless and agitated since that day. Spock knew Kirk hated patrol duty, but he was normally quite capable of keeping those feelings in check. However, now Kirk was having great difficulty maintaining any semblance of control.

When McCoy told him of Uhura’s near fixation upon Kirk, Spock began to consider it might be more than coincidence. He had researched for any known incidences of similar reactions, but the scant data was inconclusive. What he had found mentioned that sometimes a passive mental link, much like a bond, could be initiated between meld members if strict partitioning was not maintained between personalities. Those members could fixate upon each other. Spock now felt he should not have allowed Kirk to remain in Uhura’s mind without direct supervision. In allowing them a moment of privacy, he might have inadvertently allowed such a link to form between them.

Treatment for the fixation usually required another meld. However, sometimes allowing the fixated partners to act upon their fixation seemed to correct the mental aberration. Spock did not believe McCoy would allow him to conduct another meld and he did not think the Captain would request a medical diversion to Vulcan. Therefore, he had to agree with McCoy that perhaps, if the Captain and Lieutenant Uhura could act upon their attraction to one another, they would correct the issue themselves.

"And you consider my seduction of a crew member to be a valid solution to her issues with intimacy?" Kirk asked incredulously. Saying it aloud made it all the more profane to him.

"Seduction would not be appropriate in this case. However, allowing your mutual attraction to resolve itself naturally would be beneficial." Spock stood straight; his hands clasped behind his back, and attempted to focus on the wall just above Kirk's head.

"Resolve itself naturally? No matter how you phrase it Spock, you're still suggesting I have sexual intercourse with a member of *my* crew." Kirk sputtered as he stood and got in Spock's face.

"Do you hear yourself? Can you understand the ramifications if I were to act upon this recommendation?" Kirk asked hotly as he paced away from Spock.

He could hardly believe Spock was having this conversation with him. The Vulcan, who would rather die than admit he was suffering from his own mating drive a little more than a year ago.

"Jim, do you understand the consequences if you do not?" Spock bluntly asked. "You will lose a member of your Bridge crew. A person you have tried to help recover from a brutal attack on her mind and person. An officer you value a great deal. A woman for whom I know you have strong feelings."

Kirk whirled and marched back to stand squarely in front of Spock.

"A woman you also care about very much, Spock. Why can't you be the one to help broach this fear of intimacy?" Kirk challenged callously.

Spock turned away from Kirk, ready to end this discussion, but Kirk stalked around and faced him again, waiting for an answer.

"Very well, Captain, I will give you an answer. Vulcan's do not engage in unbonded casual sex. A relationship with me would be a life long commitment. As heir to the House of Surak, I am expected to sire the next matriarch of our clan, a Vulcan matriarch, not a Human one." Spock finished stiffly. It was very painful to discuss something so private with a non-Vulcan, even Jim, especially in the midst of such charged emotions from the Human.

Kirk started to say something hateful about 'bad blood' but swallowed it as unworthy. Even through his anger, he realized what the Vulcan's confession had cost him. Instead, he stepped back and drew a deep, calming breath.

"All right, Spock, I can respect that, but it doesn't change the situation for me." Kirk sighed and dropped down into his chair, all anger suddenly gone.

"Jim, what exactly are your issues with acting upon your feelings for Lieutenant Uhura?" Spock asked in a curious tone.

Kirk's head snapped up to look at his first officer. That question coming from anyone other than Spock would warrant a hard right cross to the jaw.

"Fine, Spock, I will give *you* an answer." Kirk repeated the Vulcan's own words.

"Number one, it's against regulations. Two, it's against my own code of conduct. Three, it might cause more harm to Uhura, rather than help her. And four, I might not be able to let her go afterwards…." The last was said in nearly a whisper. He sat for a long moment, quiet and staring at nothing before finally looking up at Spock.

"Captain -- Jim, I do understand your concerns, but I do not see them as insurmountable -- please hear me out." The Vulcan requested from the dumbfounded Human.

"Fraternization is only against regulations when the involvement is between direct chain-of-command personnel. May I submit that, while you and Lieutenant Uhura are on Potakai Prime, you will be the official Federation Ambassador and she will be functioning as your consort? Neither title is considered a military rank, therefore, not involved in a chain-of-command regulation.

"Further, I have always had the utmost respect for your personal code of conduct, but in this instance, do you not run the risk of causing injury rather than not? Would not the Lieutenant suffer greater harm by being forced from her friends and coworkers aboard Enterprise? Jim, I shared the meld with you both. Although I removed myself from your interaction, I was the bridge by which you connected. I know she cares for you a great deal and would not be harmed by your actions.

"Additionally, approaching the Lieutenant as a way of helping and healing can only be viewed with high regard. Offering yourself as a way of allowing her to reconnect with the emotions all Humans esteem can only be seen as honorable.

"As to letting her go once you both return to Enterprise, I have seen you give everything for duty. I do not wish to see you hurt so again, but I believe you can let her go if she can still remain by your side on the Bridge."

Spock watched Kirk's face, trying to read whether his arguments had won any anchor in the captain's protests. He knew the Human felt extremely lonely and was vulnerable to the lieutenant's affection. He could not endure watching Kirk be hurt by the loss of someone he cared about. Jim lost Edith because he was not allowed to act. Now, he might lose Uhura if he didn't. When Jim failed to respond immediately, Spock decided to push his case.

"Jim, at least consider Lieutenant Uhura as consort. She is fully qualified for the role and would be an asset to the mission. Regardless of whether you reconsider your involvement in resolving her emotional issue, the general experience will serve to make her stronger."

Kirk continued to hold Spock's gaze, no longer angry but not really convinced either.

"Spock, in all your arguments you have never considered Uhura's decision in any of this. You and McCoy have been so busy trying to convince me that I can help her that neither of you thought to ask her what she wants. Hell, she doesn't even know how close to losing her berth she really is. Now I'm supposed to come in, drop that bombshell, and offer myself as her only hope? You both do her a great disservice. I bear a lot of responsibility in this situation getting so out of hand, but I won't be a party in deceiving her. Uhura needs to know the truth of her situation and be involved in solving it.

"If she understands and wants to be my consort, I have no problem with that. Anything else is still unresolved. I make no offer to pursue any relationship on Potakai Prime and that is a week she will be unavailable to deal with her issues in any way, or with anyone else." Kirk replied in a tone of finality.

Spock arched a brow at Kirk's rebuttal. He *had* considered Uhura's choice in the matter. He remembered her passion from the meld and knew what her decision would be. However, he also knew that for Kirk to accept it, Uhura would need to vocalize her own agreement.

"Very well. At the beginning of alpha shift, the doctor will clarify Lieutenant Uhura's condition to her. Then, I will offer her the option as the consort for the mission or remaining onboard Enterprise. I will make it very clear the choice is hers and not an order. Neither Doctor McCoy nor I will discuss any specific involvement as a means in resolving her remaining emotional conflicts. However, I am sure the doctor will suggest that she consider a physical relationship with someone as a means to an end. With that conversation in mind, if she accepts the assignment, logic dictates her choice would be you." The Vulcan finished his speech with calm resolution, as if he had just finished a lecture rather than map out a campaign of intimate involvement between his captain and the lieutenant.

Kirk just sat back and rubbed his temples. He could not believe this was happening to him. How did Spock make it seem so simple when he knew it was anything but? He would make McCoy pay for involving the Vulcan in this. Spock allowing himself to be involved was shocking in and of itself. The first officer normally kept human emotions, especially passionate ones, at an extreme distance. When he noticed Spock remained in front of him, he replied tiredly.

"Whatever Spock, that remains to be seen. You and McCoy do your part and I expect a list of alternative candidates if she declines. Dismissed."

The Vulcan nodded and left the Captain to his own thoughts.

TBC

~ID'ic

Healing Touch Chapter 1 K/U [NC-17]

2010-02-11T20:37:00.004-06:00

Image courtesy of Paramount and Trekcore

Disclaimer: Paramount owns Star Trek. I only own my fantasies.

Beta: Sincere gratitude goes to: Nyotava, Bandicca, Zapp and Trekskitten for such wonderful betaing! Each of them brought fresh insight and used their unique expertise to make this story a reality.

Summary: A sequel to "My Faith in You," addressing Uhura's recovery from a brutal attack and the depths of Kirk's commitment to keep her in his world.

***

Movie Night had been Sulu's idea; Uhura just went along to have something to do. Now she was having second thoughts, as the espionage thriller was leaving her cold. Sulu leaned over toward Uhura and whispered, his keen eyes taking her in. "You're not enjoying this, are you?"

"Sure, Ru." Uhura lied. She knew the helmsman loved action vids and she didn't want him to miss this one just because she wasn't in the mood.

Just at that moment the Captain got up from his seat near the front and exited the theater. Uhura's eyes tracked him out the door. When she looked back, she caught a small frown flashing across Sulu's face.

"What?" She asked, slightly flustered at being caught.

"Why is it that all the women in my life fall in love with the Captain?" Sulu asked with a resigned sigh.

"Don't be silly, Ru." Uhura scolded him.

"You're going to sit there and tell me that look wasn't full of longing?" Sulu asked in a skeptical whisper.

Uhura looked around; she and Sulu had gotten there late, so they had taken seats in the very back and were pretty much alone.

"I'm not telling you anything." She whispered back, giving him a meaningful glare before turning sympathetic.

"Besides, you know Janice only has eyes for you now." Uhura moved the topic from herself to the helmsman's real concern.

"So you tell me, but every comm she sends seems to inquire about him in some way." His smile was tight and laced with sadness.

"You're imagining things; Jan just wants to know what's going on. I'm sure she misses *all* of us. By now, ADTech School has to be very intense. You don't cram four years of engineering theory into your head without paying a price." Uhura chided.

She knew Sulu struggled with Janice's infatuation concerning the Captain. It had almost ended their relationship before it started. He admired Kirk greatly, but wasn't eager to be compared to him.

Sulu grimaced, but decided to squelch his insecurity. Deep down he knew Jan loved him. However, seeing Uhura follow Kirk with her eyes, just as Janice used to do, had dredged up painful memories.

"Come on, I know you're not into the vid. Let’s go to the lounge and I'll get us some tea." Sulu offered with a sweet smile.

Uhura grinned back. This was the man she knew and enjoyed spending time with. Since her attack on Bengali, nearly three months ago, Sulu had found a way to draw her out and keep her among the living. He did not even know the whole story of her kidnapping, and nothing of her rape, yet he seemed to know when she was floundering. It was then that he would show up at her door with that silly grin of his turned on high.

That is what he had done tonight. Somehow he had known she was upset after her latest session with Doctor McCoy and had been waiting for her in the mess hall. He never inquired directly on her thoughts. Instead, he just steered the conversation through events of the day until he struck a topic she felt comfortable discussing.

Eventually she had confided to him that she had yet to pass her final pysch scan and was worried with so little time left. If she did not pass it within the three-month window of her injury, she would be planet-bound for further rehab. Starfleet was very particular that everyone aboard ship was a stable individual. Long months, enclosed on a vessel with little distraction, were not healthy for volatile personalities.

Now, sipping tea and sitting across from Sulu, Uhura had to admit she felt some better. She still had nearly two weeks and McCoy had told her she was really close to passing; she would just think positively and trust that Fate would not bring her this close, only to fail.

"So, Ny, how are your music lessons going with Mister Spock?" Sulu asked, ready for a new topic.

"Pretty good, I guess," she smiled. "At least he hasn't told me to stay away."

It had been good to start her lessons again, but the latest piece of music the science officer was trying to teach her was nearly impossible. The speed of plucking, and the range of string strokes, was proving to be more than her human hands could accomplish. Nevertheless, the Vulcan continued to patiently place her hands on the strings and walk her through the motions time and time again.

Inwardly Uhura smiled; she liked the feel of Spock's hands on hers. The heat of his skin was always so pronounced, a sharp contrast to the coolness of his eyes. Not that he looked coldly upon her, quite the contrary, he was very solicitous of her in private, but the dark depths of his eyes seemed to engulf her if she looked at him very long.

She once jokingly thought to herself that perhaps Spock enjoyed it as well. Perhaps that was why he refused to give up on this musical arrangement and go with something a bit easier. She yawned and embarrassingly covered her mouth, looking contritely at Sulu.

"Oh well, I guess I'm really entertaining you tonight." Sulu chuckled and rolled his eyes.

"Stop it, Ru. I've had a lovely evening, but it’s been a long day of boredom and tomorrow doesn't promise to be much better." Uhura sighed deeply.

"Yeah, I'm not looking forward to another month of patrolling the Neutral Zone either." Sulu commiserated.

They had been told to expect at least that much longer on their current mission. No one was enjoying the mission, especially Captain Kirk. When Uhura saw him leave the movie tonight, the tenseness in his posture was visible, even from across the darkened room. The endless hours of waiting for an unseen enemy were having a noticeable effect on him. His confident smile was rarely shown but his temper was.

Soon after their patrol mission had begun, Spock had convinced the captain to accompany him to the gym nearly every day during the middle of the shift. Ostensibly to learn a new Vulcan battle exercise, but Uhura thought it was just an opportunity to drain off excess energy. It seemed to work. He always came back to the Bridge, calmer, more like his usual self. In fact, alpha shift was somewhat jealous that beta shift was reaping the benefits of the split shift the commanders had opted to work.

Sulu didn't seem to mind too much though. He was beginning to rack up some serious hours sitting in the center chair. Captain Kirk saw no reason to call Scotty away from Engineering just to command dead space. Sulu didn't care if they were moored in Spacedock; any time at the Conn was good to him. Uhura smiled at the helmsman.

"Oh? You aren't interested in more time sitting in the center seat?" She grinned wickedly.

"Well, that's the only perk I can see. I hope Mister Spock continues the Captain's lessons until this mission is over." Sulu confided sheepishly.

"I don't think you have anything to worry about, Ru. Spock knows a calm captain makes for a happy ship, so he will find some type of diversion to keep him content." Uhura replied sagely.

For all his professed logic and non-emotion, the Vulcan seemed highly in tune with those closest to him. He would come up with some logical basis for his actions, but deep down she knew it just boiled down to the fact that he cared for them all. The thought comforted her. To know Spock would always be looking out for her was like a balm over her wounded soul.

Her days were slowly going back to normal. Work was a calming routine for her. No, her problems were the nights, hours alone, with only her memories to stalk her. Memories of cruel Orion faces looming over her, coupled with feelings of humiliation those memories still evoked. Chest crushing anxiety that attempted to smother her, as she lay sleepless on her bunk.

The Captain had found her broken and dying in the wreckage of the Orion compound on Bengali Station. Christine had told Uhura how he had stayed during the long hours they had fought to save her. Moreover, she remembered all too well the mind meld Spock had initiated between her and the Captain to repair the damage to her mind. His call to her was like a Siren's song, except, instead of dying upon the rocks, she had been reborn.

She had been saved, but there appeared to be a high cost to him for her salvation. It wasn't obvious, but Uhura sensed a barrier between them now. A wall he had erected as efficiently as any Vulcan to keep her at a distance. Oh, he would still smile and joke with her, but always in a crowd. It seemed once she was back on duty, he had withdrawn himself and locked away anyone but 'the Captain' to her.

That hurt once she had realized it, but she understood he had given a big part of himself to bring her back from the darkness. She had felt the depth of his desire for her and his dilemma of wanting a member of his crew. The frustration of having someone so near that the ship could/would share him with and the mandate of it not being allowed. Funny, she knew it wasn't Starfleet's regulations against fraternization that held him back, but some deeply embedded emotional rule within his own psyche that did so.

Perhaps that was why she gave him the space he needed now. Uhura knew what it was like to be emotionally adrift, struggling to regroup one's fundamental truth of self. She could wholeheartedly wish him success in his journey, knowing he felt the same toward her.

The irony of it was, the one man she actually felt a desire to be with was distant and forbidden to her. McCoy had told her plainly that intimacy issues were the reason she had yet to pass her pysch exam. Knowing it hadn't made the solution any clearer. The thought of allowing anyone to touch her made her skin crawl. Except for the handsome man sitting before her now, a man as equally forbidden as the Captain, albeit for very different reasons, Uhura felt no desire toward anyone.

And her love for Sulu was more emotional than physical. Sulu was a port of calm in a currently stormy sea, a place in which she could take refuge. His romantic involvement with Janice made him 'safe' in her eyes. Someone she could be close to but who would not expect something in return. Suddenly, she felt guilty; guilty for using Sulu for support when she really wanted another man to be the one comforting her.

"What's wrong, Ny?" Sulu asked. He had let her thoughts turn inward for a long while, but the look of melancholy that had come over her face had forced him to bring her back. It pained him to see her so lost.

"Nothing, Ru." She smiled sadly, "Just that I'm sorry you seem stuck with trying to put me back together. It's not a fair burden, but I do want you to know I love you for being here for me." The confession cut his heart in two.

"Nyota, don't apologize to me. Isn't that what friends are for? Don't you believe Pavel and Christine want to help you too? We all love you very much and want you back."

Tears filled Uhura's eyes, but she wouldn't let them go. The unabashed look of devotion Sulu was casting her way, and the mention of her other friend's concern, was nearly overwhelming.

"And I want to be back with you all, Ru. Just hold on for a little bit longer. I just feel like a ship five degrees off true. You know you can steer, but the view is a bit off. Well, that's me. I know I'm off course, but I can still navigate to the goal." Uhura fumbled with an analogy that might make sense to him.

Sulu gave her a big grin.

"Good attempt at communications, Comm Officer. I get the point. In that analogy, Doctor McCoy would be the equivalent to Mister Scott. And with the 'Miracle Worker' on your side, I have no doubts you will pass that exam with flying colors. Come on and let me walk you back to your quarters -- you've let your tea get cold anyway."

Uhura smiled back at him as she rose from the table and tossed her cup in the recycler. His confidence and enthusiasm were contagious; too bad he could not take the test for her.

***

Kirk looked up from the report he was reading and acknowledged the visitor requesting entrance. He was curious who would come by so late, but hardly surprised to see McCoy enter his quarters.

"Good Evening, Bones, what brings you by so late?" Kirk inquired with a gentle smile. For all he knew the good doctor was coming by for a nightcap.

"Good Evening, Captain." McCoy answered, and Kirk was immediately on his guard. The CMO had addressed him as 'Captain', not 'Jim'; no this was not a social call, coupling that with the late hour, and Kirk's internal alarms were blaring like a red alert.

"What is it Bones? This doesn't appear to be good news to me." Kirk turned in his chair and faced the Doctor squarely.

"It's not going to be, Jim." McCoy bit out, but softened it with a pleading look at the Captain.

Kirk got up and poured them both a drink, motioning for the doctor to sit.

"All right Bones, tell me the bad news." Kirk braced himself for whatever the surgeon was so reluctant to tell him.

"Uhura isn't going to pass her pysch exam in time unless we do something drastic." The CMO blurted.

Kirk was dumbfounded. He hadn't expected Uhura to be the topic of McCoy's concern. "Explain, Doctor, your last report had her progress on target." An edge of anger crept into his tone; he didn't like to be blind-sided like this.

"I don't know what went wrong. She was doing great and then she just hit a brick wall. We can't seem to find a way around it." McCoy sighed; he was at a loss and had exhausted every idea he could think of.

"What's the issue? You said a brick wall, a wall against what?" The captain's intense eyes drilled into the CMO's blue ones, trapping him within the gaze.

"Intimacy issues, Jim. Uhura can't seem to allow herself to feel vulnerable enough with anyone to make a physical, or for that matter, emotional connection. It is very understandable considering the trauma she suffered, and something she will eventually get past, but we are out of time. Unless her next exam can be benchmarked within the normal limits of her scan on file, I can't release her back to full duty. You know the regs; three months are all Starfleet allows as a recuperative window aboard ship. If Uhura doesn't pass the test within the next two weeks, she'll have to be transferred planet-side for continued rehab." McCoy took a long sip of his drink and stared back at Kirk.

"That's not acceptable, Doctor, she's been through too much to sit her down now. Uhura’s place is on Enterprise, not some rehab center. You said something about drastic measures -- "

"You won't like them either." McCoy cut him off.

"I want options, Doctor -- something more than sending her off the ship." Kirk barked back, slapping the desk with the flat of his hand.

"All right, Captain. Here's your option. Someone needs to approach Uhura and make that connection for her. Someone who can get her to trust him so completely she can finally heal. Do *you* know anyone like that, Captain?"

McCoy was irate now. He was angry with Jim for forcing him to go against his better judgment the last three months. However, he was angrier with himself for allowing it to happen. Now what had it cost Uhura? Her career -- at least on a ship? He was angry with Jim, who had forced him to become her therapist when Doctor Yangstra would have been the better choice. But, would it have really made a difference? Had he been so off-base in judging her emotional status? No, he did not believe that, but it still left him angry and the captain was a good target. And he needed Jim to feel the desperation if they were to have a chance….

"She's not involved with anyone? I thought she and M'Benga were close--" Kirk's mind was reeling from McCoy's implication.

"No, she's not involved with Geoffrey, hasn't been for some time now." McCoy snapped back, not willing to help Kirk find another solution except the one he had already come up with. The one he waited for Kirk to realize himself.

"She's a beautiful woman, surely she has been involved with someone since M'Benga then?" Kirk queried, not sure how much McCoy knew of the Lieutenant's love life, or how much he would share if he did.

"Yes, she's very beautiful, and yes, she's had a relationship or two since Geoffrey, but they're closed chapters in her book and not something we have time to reopen. There's only one man Uhura has feelings for now, the one man who could reach her when she was sick and locked within those Orion nightmares. You know this Jim; you know it's you she cares about. Right or wrong, you're the only one who can reach past the barrier she has erected around her trust and bring her back to her old self."

McCoy did not say it gently; he did not take the sting out of the hard slap of reality just inflicted upon Kirk. Jim had promised Uhura she would always be on Enterprise if she wanted to be and he had bent many rules to keep that promise. The CMO waited with a twisted curiosity to see if Kirk would bend one more.

Kirk's head snapped up, almost as if the blow had been physical. A rush of red anger flushed his face at being called out by Bones. Standing, he transformed into ‘the Captain’ in front of McCoy. No trace of Jim, of the friend he so desperately needed right now, escaped the look from Kirk’s hard hazel eyes.

"Then you don't have an option, Doctor. I cannot be that person for her and you know it. Does she even know what you came here to talk about?" Kirk's tone was soft and deadly cold.

McCoy didn't flinch from the reprimand. He knew Jim would reject his idea out of hand. However, he hoped, if he could get Jim to think upon it for a moment, that Kirk would see it really was their only option. He drew himself up in an approximation of attention before replying.

"No, Sir, she does not. The Lieutenant currently has no idea how dire her situation is. She knows we have a concern, but I have led her to believe it is not as significant as it is. Advising her of it would only compound the problem, Captain."

"Very well, dismissed, Doctor. I expect another option to be forthcoming." Kirk hit the button to open his cabin door, not giving McCoy an opportunity to reply.

McCoy bowed his head, not in defeat, but in sadness that he had damaged two souls. Jim might never forgive him and Uhura would be lost to them soon. He said nothing, but walked through the door, the hiss of its closure another accusation against him.

***

Kirk, alone now, sat down hard in his chair. He tossed his drink back and immediately got up to pour himself another. He stopped in mid pour and put both glass and bottle down. That wouldn't solve the problem; drowning in alcohol would not make reality change.

He paced across the room once or twice before sitting on his bunk. He rubbed his eyes and lay back across the mattress. It was not comfortable, but he did not want to be comfortable right now. He did not think he deserved to be if Uhura was going to be shipped away from Enterprise -- no, squelch that -- away from *him*. At least he should be honest with himself. How could he hope to solve the problem if he could not acknowledge the truth?

Ever since the meld with Spock and Uhura, he had felt at a loss -- incomplete. He had sensed Spock's interest in her and bristled at the idea. Yet, what could he offer her? Nothing, in public. Secret rendezvous on ship and shore leave? That was worse. Did he really even know what he felt for Uhura? He had buried those emotions when he had withdrawn from her mind. The ecstasy they had shared in the meld was too tempting to recreate in physical form. He knew he desired her and that had scared him enough to back away. He knew his resistance was low where she was concerned. He knew that Uhura herself wasn't emotionally strong enough now to deal with anything as complicated as a shipboard romance with the Captain.

Did he love her? Yes. Was he *in* love with her? He didn't think so, but he was afraid any time spent in her company might change that. He couldn't allow it to happen. The dynamics of their relationship would change and so would everyone else's. He couldn't risk his command for a love Starfleet would separate if it were discovered.

Was that selfish? Probably, but he knew his first love would always be the stars and eventually he would come to resent anyone who interfered with that love. Hadn't Uhura professed much the same to him when she came onboard? She had said nothing was as important as being amongst the stars. So, how did he deal with the problem of keeping her aboard Enterprise without jeopardizing it as well? He sighed, no answers forthcoming.

Could he actually approach Uhura with an offer of intimacy and remain unscathed in the aftermath? Even so, how would she react to such a proposal? With a hard slap across the face, he imagined. It sounded lame even to him and he knew it to be the truth. He didn't see how he could help her; there were too many eyes aboard ship that followed his every move, too many people who would notice if he showed an interest in the beautiful officer.

His position on the bunk was still uncomfortable. Kirk rolled over onto the bed vertically and fell into a fitful sleep. The unanswered questions were still demanding an audience, questions he would have to answer sooner or later.

***

Uhura was deep into her diagnostics when the new orders came in from Starfleet. The hail startled her as she tried to connect the last circuit that would actually allow her to receive the transmission. Once connected, she was further startled by the fact that the orders were encoded as eyes only for the captain.

Chekov turned around in his chair and exclaimed. "Hopefully, the Czar has finally gotten something better for us to do."

Sulu grinned from the Conn--Kirk and Spock had been off the Bridge for over two hours now.

"Be careful what you ask for, Pavel." Uhura warned. "These orders are 'eyes only' for Captain Kirk." She reported as she downloaded the transmission to her padd and looked over to Sulu.

He nodded, giving silent permission for her to leave the Bridge and take the orders down to Kirk in the gym. He looked excited and wistful--excited they might get out of patrol duty after all and wistful that he was not 'the Captain' who would be reading the orders.

Uhura smiled at the look, knowing exactly what the helmsman was thinking. She winked at him and headed for the lift. She made her way to the auxiliary gym, where the two senior officers had said they would be.

The window was opaque, but Uhura could see shadows moving rapidly across the room. She palmed the door and froze just inside the entrance, taking in the sight and sound before her. A driving percussive music was playing loudly within the gym. The music was obviously Vulcan, sounding very ancient, almost tribal.

The two officers she sought were intently involved in battle maneuvers that appeared to be choreographed to the blaring music. Each held a long metallic shaft that had a flared mock blade on one end and a weighty cudgel on the other. Both Kirk and Spock were in deep concentration, attacking and defending themselves simultaneously. They were moving so fast and swiping at each other so furiously; Uhura was scared to interrupt for fear of them seriously injuring one another.

Spock, dressed in long gray thermals, appeared to be on the attack. His movements were quick and efficient. The slash and parry moves were perfectly timed to the rhythm of the music. The choreography was precise and potentially deadly.

Captain Kirk was only dressed in gray gym shorts, and those were drenched in the same sweat that soaked his hair and covered his exposed skin. No wonder he came back to the Bridge each day so sedate; the energy he was expending in deflecting the Vulcan's blows was enormous. Some strikes were high and the human had to duck low, only to have to jump up, or back, as the return stroke came at him from a completely different angle.

Uhura stood mesmerized, watching the two men battle and dance. Yes, for all the violence, it was still graceful enough to be called a dance, a warrior's dance. She was astonished that Spock seemed to be attacking the Captain at full strength. She knew that, as a Vulcan, the science officer was much stronger than a human was. His normal calm and gentle nature was nowhere to be seen in the intent hunting expression she now saw on his face. His eyes were fixed tightly on the prey before him now.

The human under attack used a set of intricate maneuvers to absorb and deflect the superior strength being directed toward him. He deflected and countered with a speed Uhura found extraordinary. She was amazed that, not only could Kirk keep up with Spock, but that he continued to do so over an extended period of time. The weapon appeared to be heavy, yet he used it expertly to counter the Vulcan's blows. His own gaze was locked with the first officer's, attempting to anticipate the next attack.

Sweat continued to pour off the heavily breathing captain, yet Spock had not even begun to perspire. His thermals were still as dry as when he had donned them. Uhura knew Vulcan was extremely hot and arid, but she had never equated the difference in people- terms until she saw the striking contrast between her commanding officers. The gray thermals hid the Vulcan's lean musculature, but not his skillful grace. However, Uhura had no such problem in admiring Kirk's glistening form and seemingly more powerful build. Nearly three months of this intense regimen had more sharply defined Kirk's already fine physique. His back, shoulders and arms were deeply muscled from exercising with the heavy Vulcan weapon. She noticed he had also lost a few pounds in all the right places.

Neither man had yet to notice her entrance, so she decided waiting them out was the safest course. Surely they had to take a break soon. She couldn't fathom they could keep this pace without one or the other being injured.

The rhythm of the music changed, became harsher and Kirk seemed to change tactics, to become the aggressor in their exercise. Uhura watched him swing the bladed end full force at the Vulcan's chest. Spock leaped back, the blunted blade missing him by millimeters.

The music rose to a pitched fervor and both men launched themselves at each other. The brunt of the attack was absorbed as the weapon shafts made contact. It appeared obvious that the Vulcan would easily overpower the Human in such a direct onslaught, but Uhura was surprised to see Kirk held his own long enough to spin out of reach. Both combatants swung their weapons high and smashed into the other just as the music roared to a climatic finish. They stood frozen for a moment, then, as if the trance had been broken, they separated and acknowledged each other with a formal bow.

Both men looked over and caught sight of Uhura at the same time. Spock raised a brow in silent query for the reason of her intrusion. The Captain, too winded to ask, frowned slightly before walking toward her. Uhura shook herself back to reality before grabbing the towel off the hook near the door and handing it to him as he approached.

"What's urgent, Uhura?" He asked breathlessly as he began to wipe his face and neck with the proffered towel.

"I have an eyes-only communiqué from Starfleet for you, Captain." She replied professionally, trying to appear as if she saw such an exhibition every day. Waiting while he finished toweling dry, she attempted to remain totally oblivious to his nearness and state of undress.

"Let’s hope it's something to cheer about shall we?" He asked in a flip tone and shot her a look that said he was not betting on it being good news. He took the padd from her and keyed in his command code to decrypt the downloaded message.

Uhura smiled at Spock as Kirk continued to scan the message. The Vulcan tipped his head in a slight bow and walked over to get the Captain and himself bottled water from the cooler unit. Kirk finished the message and traded the padd to Spock for a bottle of water. He drained most of it in one continuous swig and poured the rest over his head while the first officer also read the communiqué.

"Lieutenant, there will be a follow up transmission coming in soon. And, since I think Mister Spock has bounced me around the room enough for one day --"

"Captain, the Tevakh t' wuh Khy'lan is hardly meant to 'bounce you around’; its intent is to teach one how to use an opponent's greater strength against them in physical combat." Spock interjected in a sigh of resignation.

'Tevakh t' wuh Khy'lan ' or 'death of the giant' Uhura translated automatically to herself.

"Yes, and starship captains who frequently go down on landing parties. I remember, Spock." Kirk finished what apparently was a very tired subject between the two officers.

"Give us an hour and then shunt that second transmission to briefing room two." Kirk turned his attention back to Uhura. "I've got to have a shower and some lunch before I do anything else. Tell Sulu to plot a course for the Potakai system in sector six, warp five. Starfleet must consider this pretty important if we can't wait for our relief to take over patrol."

"Yes, Sir, briefing room two in one hour and Potakai system, sector six, warp five." Uhura acknowledged as Spock handed her the padd.

"Thank you. And Uhura, log the orders in for me, will you?" Kirk asked sweetly as he continued to dry himself off with the towel.

"Yes, sir." She grinned back. Logging in the orders allowed her to read them too. She turned and left for the Bridge.

***

TBC

~ID'ic

Not A Story, just a warning of one coming...

2010-02-11T20:23:00.004-06:00

Hello!

This is just a notice/warning that I will soon begin posting chapters of my Magnum Opus, "Healing Touch". It's about 15 chapters ( I need to look that up) and the hardest thing I've ever done on a creative front. Bear with me as I post--I want to lead with a picture on each chapter, but since most of the story takes place planet-side, with a cast of OC aliens, that could prove difficult.

I'll do my best! But if you're enjoying it, let me know. A little encouragement goes A LONG way in making me find the energy to continue.

~ID'ic

Longings, A Family Breakup K/U [G]

2010-01-04T20:51:00.002-06:00

Image courtesy of Paramount, Trekcore and moi

Disclaimer: The characters are Paramount's, their actions are mine.

Summary: The end of the Mission is nigh…
~~~

He's brooding on the observation deck and I hesitate to approach. I have what should be happy news, but he won't see it as such.

"Enterprise--return to base--mission complete."

Already the rumors are flying. His being offered a promotion to the admiralty, and that Spock intends to retire to Vulcan while McCoy has threatened to quit.

He attempts a smile, but there is no life in it. He reads the padd, his face freezing in a pale imitation of happiness.

I rest my hand on his shoulder, offering what little comfort and understanding he will accept from me.

~ID'ic

Longings, Fighting a Fantasy Su/R, K/R [PG]

2010-01-04T20:47:00.002-06:00

Image courtesy of Paramount, Trekcore and moi

Disclaimer: The characters are Paramount's, their actions are mine.

Summary: Does one fight or back away from a fantasy?
~~~

I heard from Uhura that you are requesting a transfer to anywhere but here.

My heart fractured just a little -- that you would confide in her instead of me -- that your unrequited fantasies of him still overpower the reality of our shared nights together.

He's offering to recommend you for OCS, a rarity for someone your age and rank. I know you're capable of it, I just didn't realize he had seen it too.

Take him up on the offer; let something good come from your service to him. I'll try to be happy for you. I really do care.

~ID'ic

Longings, Scared of Destiny K, M [PG]

2010-01-04T20:42:00.002-06:00

Image courtesy of Paramount and Trekcore
Disclaimer: The characters are Paramount's, their actions are mine.

A/N: This can also be interpreted as solely K or solely Sc. Thanks Bandicca for that musing.

~~~

So another mission has gone to Hell in a hand basket. Too little information provided by those that should have known better and once again we had to wing it.

They expect me to be a miracle worker--to play God and keep you alive. How many times can you cheat death and he not get the wiser? How many times will he let me win?

The remainder of the mission can be counted in months now and I fret like any short-timer.

We're the only ship still relatively intact. Does Starfleet care? Or do they believe you're indestructible too?

~ID'ic

Longings, Possessed K, Sc, 1701B [PG]

2010-01-01T21:49:00.003-06:00

Image courtesy of Paramount, Trekcore and Moi

Disclaimer: The characters are Paramount's, their actions are mine.

Summary: A drunken Scotty speaks of the metallic wraith that took Kirk away from them all.

~~~

Aye, somethin' went verra wrong in her birthing. She came out possessed by th' soul o' a banshee. I didna' ken do anything to fix it. No way tae' make her whole now.

She waited for him tae' take her, knew he wanted her. But when he didn', when he hesitated, she took him. Took him cause she were angry that she were borne too late.

Now, th' best Scott is gone. Aye, I know he weren't borne o' th' land, but his blood was still pure--still true. Now, he's locked away--where only her insanity could take him.

~ID'ic