New Vulcan's largest star was setting on the horizon when the Ambassador's dinner guests excused themselves, each thanking Sarek for the meal and saluting with the Ta'al before departing. The entire affair had been three hours of a welcome home get together for Spock, where he could catch up with his father's coworkers and meet the committee which was working on rebuilding Vulcan back to it's honor, but Jim saw it for what it really was, a way to flaunt prospective mates for his son. Of course it wasn't spoken aloud, but he noticed how Sarek kept introducing both daughters and sons of his coworkers to Spock, speaking highly of their accomplishments and fishing for topics on which they agreed and could discuss, all the while leaving Kirk feeling left out as he spoke politely to the dignitaries and fumbled his way through Vulcan conversations.

Spock had sited need for meditation before disappearing upstairs and part of Jim wished to follow him, to just ignore the way the Ambassador seemed to want to erase him from the house. When they first arrived Sarek made it clear that Jim and Spock would have separate rooms and Spock never initiated any sort of touches, platonic or romantic, while Sarek was home. Jim hadn't minded until dinner, when it seemed Sarek was desperate for Spock to take notice in anyone but Jim and he had had enough. When the last guest left, Sarek turned, eyes knowing and unreadable, and Jim felt like this was now or never.

"I don't mean to sound rude, Ambassador, but I know what you're doing and I don't like it. We're adults, we should be able to talk about this."

"James, I only endeavor to-"

"Look, I know I'm not the logical choice for Spock. He should be with some high class, full bred Vulcan woman who can give you plenty of decent, 75% Vulcan grandchildren and raise her eye brow at him when he border lines emotional, but I love him and he loves me. You might not think he can feel but he does, and keeping us apart is only going to hurt him."

"I am doing it to protect him!" Sarek's voice was gravely deep; tone slightly raised in a wholly threatening manner that shocked Kirk more than had the elder outright yelled at him. Jim noticed the slight crease of Sarek's brow, the same wrinkle that the Ambassador got when he was reminiscing something sad, trying hard to make illogical humans understand something too profound for their imaginative, wild brains. And even though his own Spock was too young to show the habit yet, Jim knew what it meant on Sarek, and that alone was enough to stop Jim in his argument, words wedged in his dry throat as he recognized the subtle inkling of emotion in Sarek's voice.

"I know what it is like to feel great affections toward a human, to try and discover logic in lessons of love. I understand the bond you two share. But think James, though Spock is half human, he inherits an almost fully Vulcan body." Kirk nodded slowly and pursed his lips in a tight line as he gave a parched swallow, trying to understand where this was going. "If my son does not perish in space then he will come home to be ambassador as I have and will die only of old age."

Sarek paused then, a slight crinkling of his eye brows deceiving a look of worried pain, and Kirk noticed the aching, nervous gesture as Sarek clenched his hands and held his unwavering gaze. "Even if your mental link is strong, you will die before him, some 120 years before Spock. Death shatters bonds in a way that is close to crippling and because Vulcans mate for life, in the end, your departure will only serve to devastate my son." There was a small pause in which the truth echoed like a hollow, ugly death toll in the silence, and the shadow of sorrow that passed over the older Vulcan's eyes was more heart breaking than any tear shed could have been. "The loss would make him ache for a century before he can follow you."

And there it was, the veracity finally set out between them.
Spock was going to give Jim the best of his years.
And then mourn his loss until the end of his days.

"I did not wish to cause you worry nor do I mean to offend but I believe it had to be said." The room was cold, Jim shivering to keep his breathing normal in the face of adversity, but his stomach kept roiling and clenching painfully, sickened as the elder continued. "I understand what it is like to lose my beloved so early in life." Sarek dipped his head in a moment of weakness that Jim knew was only privy to him because Sarek saw him as family and he suddenly wished he could reach out and comfort the elder somehow.

The older Vulcan took a controlled, centering breath before he continued. "I find myself plagued still at the emptiness her severed tie has left in our bond even after immense meditation. It is the price I must pay for choosing emotions over logic, and I will bear those repercussions loyally until my dying breath."

And suddenly Jim saw that Spock wasn't only a deep, complicated Vulcan with grand spectrums of emotions constantly plaguing him because he had human genes. No, all Vulcans were fighting at their own self-imposed embarrassment over their 'illogical' feelings. And Sarek, a Vulcan whose body and soul had appeared icy and stoically immovable to Kirk, was feeling guilt.

Sorrow.
Loneliness.

Sarek gathered a strength in himself he once thought had been distinguished and raised his grave gaze to the human who was falling apart in front of his very eyes. "But I do not wish this upon my son. Not when I know his vivid human feelings will ache him even more in your older years. He will only be middle age when you are elderly, he will be loyal to a fault, will nurse you in your sickness. As a Vulcan, he will mediate and suppress his sadness and as a human it will eat him alive." The expression delicately marring his dignified features was close to what Kirk thought might be sympathy, or misery, maybe even grief.

"And you were incorrect in your assumption that you would be an 'illogical choice' as a bond mate for my son." Jim's heart felt heavy as it clenched painfully, his throat too dry and eyes stinging with his swallowed tears to say anything in the silence granted. "But I do not want him to suffer as I do." The sentence was like the last nail in a coffin as Sarek departed swiftly with his hands clasped tightly together behind his back, proud shoulders wilting just a bit as his head tipped down in a form of submission, looking like Spock does after he informs families about their loved one who had died in the line of duty, looking like a man with the weight of the world smothering him.

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There was an emptiness that echoed uncomfortably in the house, something hollow and barren sweeping invisibly over the wood and faux leather furniture, and even though Spock knew it was because his mother was gone, and in turn had taken a lot of the light and easiness of living with her, he constantly found himself illogically trying to fill the void.

He set the tea pot on to boil every time he walked through the kitchen and opened the curtains to let in the light of New Vulcan's brightest sun as it neared noon, the other, smaller star just now beginning to peak over the horizon in a beautiful mesh of golds, oranges, and fiery reds of a second sunrise.

He requested for Sulu to send the pots of desert roses they had cultivated in the labs, breeding them for arid climates and harsh light conditions without sacrificing the elegance and loveliness of their soft petaled blooms, and he placed them on the tables and the bar, on each dresser in the rooms, and watered them religiously before their leaves drew up and curled. And even though Spock caught his father's quiet, disapproving eye brow raises and forgiving tired sighs, he couldn't find it in him to stop.

Because something wasn't right.

Almost like each room was out of kilter, the world a fourth degree off balance as he wandered the familiar hallways and, yet, felt like stranger among the dust motes dancing in the rays of light bent through the windows. Swallowing thickly as he tried to add the right doses to spice the tea like he had tasted in his youth, Spock wondered if he should try and tend a garden like his mother once had when she was upset. It was with a swift clench in his side that he remembered this home, no matter how exactly tailored like the one on his old planet, had not one touch of his Mother's love.

-Page Break-

Jim secretly adored Spock and his slowly grieving heart as he caught him occasionally, the captain beaming fondly as he watched his stoic first officer take the twisted thorn stem in a careful hold and bend his nose to the blossom, eyes closed and the softest of smiles catching on his lips as he breathed in the scent of home, of sweet spring life, of a mother.

But now Jim couldn't find Spock anywhere in the house today as he frantically searched, his hands faintly shaking as he swallowed around the lump in his throat, tongue feeling cotton dry and heavy as he peeked into the sitting room and hoped to find his boyfriend lounging on one of the hand-woven papasans. 'Where the hell did you go?' he wondered with a nervous swipe of a hand through his hair, as he turned about and stalked toward the curtains shading the sliding glass door leading to the balcony, grasping the sheer fabric a bit roughly as he wrenched them open.

And there he was.

The half-Vulcan was faced away from him, the line of his strong shoulders clear even in the folds of his dark meditation robes. With each well evened breath, Kirk could make out the rise and fall of his mate's shoulder blades, the desert breeze picking up a bit, gently mussing Spock's hair, the edges of his robe catching on the wind as well. But amongst the movement of the world around him, Spock's mind felt constant, unwavering and well centered against Kirk's as the human shyly pressed on the focused waves of fluent mantras, waking his bond-mate subtly.

Spock turned, eyes reflecting the lowest sun's warm rays, and outstretched a hand to beckon for his mate to join him, his mind now an electric, even current of affection and devotion which never failed to excite Kirk and make him melt.

He took no time in sliding the door open and making his way to Spock's side, returning the mental caresses with thankfulness, being careful to press the troubled thoughts of his and Sarek's talk into a coffin in the locked and curtained closets of his mind, focusing mostly on the way Spock's expression was open and clear, more so than usual, his color healthily glowing in the heat of the dying summer. He looked content, happy, if not a bit tired as he relaxed his shoulders and dipped slightly in posture as Kirk settled at his side and Spock rested his chin on his shoulder, lips dangerously close to his ear.

"Jim." He breathed in his scent and Kirk felt the strange shimmer of pleasure that lit his nerves every time his boyfriend lapsed into the warm, palpable mix of human and alien affections. "I did not mean to hide from you." Kirk felt the pause be filled with a sleepy breath and grinned as Spock nuzzled at the soft skin of his neck.

Jim wrapped an arm around his bonded's shoulders and pressed him closer, loving the easy way they fit together. "I totally get it, you needed some alone time." The unspoken truth that he understood how it was to come home to a house that felt unrecognizable and the strength that came from meeting the eyes of those who wouldn't mourn blanketing them as they basked in the sudden, cooling breeze.

Kirk had almost drifted to sleep in those long, indulgent moments of sweet peace when Spock's voice quietly roused him with the astute observation of "You spoke with my Father recently." His voice didn't betray worry or a drop of concern but there was something shadowed in his eyes as he searched Jim's face for an inkling of information.

Jim was a bit unsettled by that, his courage splintering as the parental conversation reeled fresh in his mind, Sarek's cold voice echoing the awful and blatant truth like the clock that tolled midnight before Cinderella's coach turned back into a pumpkin. And with a huff of anxious laughter at that comparison, he turned his head and stole a brave kiss, his lips soft, tongue shyly tasting the seam of Spock's before the two of them fell into the delicate leisure of human affections, though Jim's free hand sought Spock's and tangled their fingers, his callused thumb grazing the ridges of the half-Vulcan's knuckles as he pressed heady, erotic intentions through his touches. Eyes half mast, he pulled away and marveled at the glazed, fathomless look his mate was giving him.

"Come back inside the house." Jim tried to coax in his husky, low voice, but even as his strong fingers gripped teasingly at the short hairs at the base of Spock's neck, his First Officer seemed to catch something in his Captain's expression and raised an obstinate eyebrow.

"Jim, you are exhibiting avoidance behaviors." He chided softly as they shared the same air, his conscious grasping at Jim's mind and turning it over in his hands like it was an opaque, smoke filled gazing ball. Sensing Jim's trepidation he nudged reassuringly, lips pressing firmly at the corner of Kirk's self-conscious smile. "He did not upset you did he?"

"No." Kirk answered a bit too hastily, earning himself another questioning eye brow tick. "I mean, we just talked about a few things, that's all." He tried to laugh it off, but the apprehension roiling off him triggered something in Spock, and soon Kirk found himself being nudged by strong hands on his chest, turning in the insisting grasp as he was pressed against the glass door, a pair of darkened eyes sharply trying to find signs of truth.

"I have read in my Father an odd expression I have yet to determine…" the reflective pause was internally focused, as if Spock was recalling every single lapse of Vulcan perfection and setting each side by side for comparison. But in an undetermined instant, every fiber of focus was on Jim again, eye brows slightly furrowed. "He is not one to hold back judgment and I am afraid that he may have upset you with his unrelenting views. Please, Jim, if he has said something-"

"Spock, sweetheart, it's nothing like that. I've had a lot worse parental talks, believe me; at least he didn't pull a loaded shotgun on me…." Kirk grinned a bit ashamedly at the shaken memory of waking up at Jennifer Taften's house at the wild age of 16, her six foot four father home early and pressing the barrel coldly at Jim's throat as Jennifer pleaded that they hadn't done anything.

Spock's eyes creased in that clipped, irritated way they always did when Jim remembers his old affairs, a cold ribbon of jealousy passing over Spock's mind and Jim tried hard to amend it with a warm smile. "They all meant nothing, you know that."

He softly took Spock's hands and felt the bond hum happily in response, the golden thread twisting intimately as they drew their foreheads together. "My Father may not have threatened you with ancient Terran weaponry but that does not mean he has not slighted you in some way."

And when Jim Kirk looked at that softened, determined expression he knew he was loved.
This was the man that had brutally beaten Khan, had pressed Jim dangerously close to his own death, bent over that switchboard on the bridge, and now Spock's eyes held that same passionate fire, turned inward on himself, fighting the old Vulcan laws that saw same sex couples was an illogical waste when propagating one's race was perceived as the highest of accomplishments in life, struggling to help fit Jim into the stringent practices that demanded emotional control.

In that instant, Jim saw what Sarek had been talking about. Spock looked at him like he was the sun, like Jim was worth denouncing a part of himself and setting aside personal principles in order to love him.
And for what in return?

Jim couldn't give him kids, hell, didn't even know if he wanted to ever have an adopted child or two running underfoot, and he sure as hell wasn't going to be there to tend to Spock when he was old and sick and in need of help. He was going to walk down the aisle and promise to love this man 'Until death do we part', and that was going to be sooner than Jim admitted was fair to his fiancé.

And what about when Jim was gone?

Spock looked misplaced and almost heartbreakingly confused as his mate suddenly closed his mind to him and then pulled back from their gentle proximity, his callused hands grabbing onto Spock's robe covered wrists and uncurling himself so he could stand. Jim looked blurred at the edges, eyes holding a shaken element that threatened to spill in a sudden, and to Spock, unbidden reaction.

"I need a moment-" He reasoned a bit hastily and hauled opened the glass door, not even having time to shut it as he escaped into the twisting halls of Spock's house.

Their bond was awash with conflicting emotions as Jim tried to control himself, feeling altogether foolish and childlike as he turned a corner and disappeared out the front door. He stumbled a bit in the tricky sand as it gave way underfoot, in such a fashion unlike the clay like, harder soils Vulcan had originally been, and tries to righten his conscious, throwing a haphazard glace over his shoulder.

But Spock wasn't going to follow him. And even with his mind distant and closed to is bond-mate, Jim knew Spock had no doubt where he was going to seek refuge.

Because there was only one other Vulcan on this planet, was only one other friend in which Jim could hide his fears and sorrows.

-Page Break-

I had the idea after watching "Search for Spock". I know a lot of people think Sarek would have an issue with Jim and Spock bonding and being together, I've read a lot of fics where Sarek is portrayed as the bad guy standing in the way of them being together but I don't think its for the reason everyone assumes. So I hope you enjoy this little look into Jim meeting Spock's father and the troubles that arise. :)

Please review so I know if this is a project I should continue. :)