NU2U: "Blood Ties", 17/26 (TOS/AU, S/Ch, Sa, Am, Vulcan OCs, K, Mc; h/c, anx [PG13])
Gamin
pregnant wife Christine back to Vulcan for presentation at a clan
gathering, where both run afoul of certain ultra-conservative clan-
members. This part: while others wrap presents, Spock entertains the
children by serenading Christine with his Vulcan harp.
Disclaimers: Part 1A.
******
Spock and Christine had taken the children back inside by the time his
relatives began to return, which naturally presented a problem for
those trying to smuggle presents--some bulky and difficult to carry,
much less hide--past them and into Sarek and Amanda's bedroom closet.
It was Amanda, therefore, who voluntarily took the post of lookout,
standing at the parlor door and watching to be sure Spock and
Christine kept themselves occupied with the children until the others
were finished wrapping and hiding their gifts.
When they began to come out of the room, they found that Spock was
maintaining the children's attention as they gathered around and
seated themselves on the floor and sofa by playing his Vulcan harp for
time since his arrival. Sarek and Amanda watched from the doorway,
and Kirk, T'Merit, Setek and the others watched from nearby, all
silent as they listened to Spock's performance and the verbal exchange
that followed when he had finished.
"You play very well, Spock," T'Sethia commented.
Spock bowed his head slightly in gratitude.
"Can you play any music from Earth?" T'Syla asked curiously.
Spock raised an eyebrow at her, startled by the unexpected request.
"Some. Do you *all* wish to hear Terran music?" he asked. When he was
greeted by a chorus of "yeses", he glanced over at Christine for
guidance. "Do you have any suggestions?"
Christine hesitated, uncertain of just which pieces of Terran music he
might be familiar with. Then she recalled a certain song he had
played--and sung--for her during one of the frequent serenades that
had been part of his Human courtship efforts during the pon farr; she
had been touched enough by the haunting, plaintive melody and the
appropriateness of the lyrics that she had gone to the Enterprise's
computer library to investigate the song's background, as she was sure
Spock had. It dated from the 20th century--from
a theatrical/musical production of a Charles Dickens novel.
She could not recall Spock having played it before then, however, and
she wondered now if he could even *remember* any music played only
while he was in pon farr. Nonetheless, Christine realized she would
like very much to hear it again. "Do you know this one?" she asked
carefully, then hummed a couple of bars of the tune, as nearly as she
could remember it.
Spock's responding expression showed that he did indeed know exactly
what piece of music she was talking about, but it showed nothing else,
so Christine was uncertain of whether or not to expect to be chided
for her choice when they were alone. "Yes," he admitted quietly,
regarding her with a certain apprehension in his eyes. "You
are...certain...that you wish me to play *that* music?"
"Please, Spock. It's a lovely piece," she entreated.
"Very well." As Spock began to play, Christine found herself softly
singing the lyrics-and Spock, as he realized that Christine apparently
found his rendition of the song as well as the memories it aroused
within her pleasant, began almost unconsciously to sing along with
her, in his own soft, throaty and rather uncertain voice:
Where...is love?
Does it fall from skies above?
Is she underneath the willow tree
that I've been dreaming of?
Where...is she,
whom I close my eyes to see?
Will I ever know the sweet "hello"
that's meant for only me?
Who can tell where she may hide?
Must I travel far and wide,
'til I am beside the someone who
I can mean something to?
Where...where...is love?
At some point during this attempted duet, it seemed to those watching
and listening that Spock and Christine had forgotten that they had an
audience and were performing only for each other, but no one seemed to
mind--including the adult Vulcans watching from across the room.
"Pretty," T'Syrith declared emphatically.
"Emotional," Sylik countered.
"Well, after all, it *is* from Earth," his sister T'Sethia, reminded
him.
"I therefore see nothing wrong with it." A general murmur of agreement
and approval rippled through the group of children in response to
this.
"You sang it well, Christine," T'Syla opined, then looked at Spock in
puzzlement. "However, I did not know *you* could sing, cousin."
Spock made every effort to keep his instinctive embarrassment from
showing, but doubted his success as he looked at the faces before
him. "Whether or not I actually can is...a debatable point, T'Syla.
I have not often attempted to do so," he responded carefully.
As Christine was about to say something designed to reassure him, they
were joined by Sarek and Amanda. "Christine, you never told us you
had such a beautiful singing voice," she accused, somewhat enviously.
Christine noticed that Amanda had tears in her eyes, but knew it must
have been a response to the song itself--not their singing. "It never
came up," she replied simply.
Sarek, meanwhile, addressed his son. "And you, Spock--does this song
hold some special significance for you? Is that why you felt
compelled to *sing* it?"
It was impossible to tell from Sarek's tone if he was ridiculing
Spock's actions or trying to understand them; in either case, it
seemed to Spock that if his father had to ask such a question, trying
to explain something he did not really understand himself would be
pointless.
Amanda intervened on his behalf. "Oh, Sarek, leave him alone. What
does it matter?" she scolded him good-naturedly. "It was beautiful--
and if Christine is singing, we know she can't be in too much pain."
Sarek was in no mood to argue. Instead, he cocked an eyebrow
inquiringly in Christine's direction. "Then you *are* feeling
better?"
"Considerably," Christine assured him.
As the other Vulcans came one by one to join their children, Amanda
decided she had better go get dinner started and headed off to the
kitchen. McCoy ambled over to check on Christine and informed Spock
that Kirk wanted to talk to him. Spock excused himself, then got up
quietly and went to join Kirk. "How was your outing with T'Merit and
Setek?" he asked.
"Lovely--as long as I kept my attention on T'Merit and Setek," Kirk
remarked sardonically. "Outside of them, I think my presence was
about as welcome as a tribble at a Klingon war council."
Spock lowered his eyes in embarrassment. "I wish I could truthfully
say I did not expect you to receive such a reception. Perhaps I
should have warned you, but I had hoped I was mistaken," he admitted
regretfully. "If only my people did not bear such instinctive disdain
for Humans...but it is an unspoken truth among us that anyone
considered an outworlder must *prove* themselves worthy of
acceptance. It is part of the reason I could not ask you to beam down
with me at the outset; it was enough that *I* had to face such
trials."
"It's all right, Spock. I pretty much expected it," Kirk tried to
reassure him.
The idea that Kirk had now come to *expect* indifference or contempt
as the invariable initial reaction of most Vulcans to his presence did
not come as any great comfort to Spock, but he looked up again with a
controlled expression, anyway. "Were you able to find something for
the children?" he asked then.
"Yes--but no hints. That's not why I wanted to talk to you."
"Oh?"
Kirk turned, insuring that his back was toward Christine, and brought
out the three jewelry boxes from behind his back. He opened the one
containing the necklace and showed it to Spock. "I thought you might
want to give this necklace to Christine," he suggested.
Spock examined the necklace reverently. "Sapohr...in a most sought-
after design. And you, of course, would remember her fondness for the
t'lerya," he noted softly, looking back up at Kirk. "I am certain she
will appreciate the gift, Jim, but should you not be the one to give
it?"
"I think it would be more appropriate coming from you. Besides--"
Kirk paused, indicating one of the other boxes. "--I thought I might
give her the bracelet, if you have no objections."
"Of course not." Spock noticed the third box. "What is in the other
box?"
"Ear-rings."
"And which of us is to give them?"
"I thought McCoy would. Of course, you're quite welcome to give her
all three, if you want. It's not that vital for either of us to have
any part--I picked them out, and Bones doesn't even know about them
yet."
"Are these gifts to be presented at the baby shower?"
"Well...strictly speaking, baby showers are only supposed to be for
women," Kirk pointed out hesitantly.
"Why did you not mention this to me when we were planning it?" Spock
demanded, cocking a startled eyebrow at him.
"Because I couldn't imagine what your male relatives were going to do
while everyone else was at the shower."
"Exactly--it is a necessary modification of the original custom,"
Spock concluded. "All of us will take part because all of us have
gifts to give. You and Dr. McCoy must take part, too, and give your
gifts to Christine and the children at the same time; it would not be
the same event if you did not--and it is the first family activity
since this gathering began that I have.believed I *could* invite you
both to participate in. It was you, after all, who gave me the idea."
"All right, Spock," Kirk acceded. "Do you want us to give Christine's
gift the way I suggested?"
Spock nodded.
"Want me to wrap yours along with the other two?" Kirk asked then.
"Please," Spock assented, putting the necklace carefully back into its
box.
"I'll keep it in McCoy's room with the others until tomorrow," Kirk
informed him, starting toward the door. Spock stopped him with a
touch on the arm, and he looked questioningly back at the Vulcan.
"I gather you and the Doctor overheard our...performance."
"Yes," Kirk replied warily, uncertain of what Spock was leading up to.
"I would prefer no one else to know. Vocal music is not customary
among Vulcans, except perhaps children in our equivalent of
kindergarten, and my voice is untrained...and not really suitable for
public display," Spock explained, his voice soft with embarrassment.
"Don't be so hard on yourself, Spock. I've heard much worse--and
Christine obviously enjoyed your singing," Kirk consoled him gently.
"Besides--I think I understand why you did it. That song means
something to you, doesn't it?"
"I.played it for Christine during my pon farr," Spock responded
evasively. "You remember. You had told me that Human women of Old
Earth were sometimes fond of 'serenades' when they were being
courted."
"Yes, I remember. But that's not what I meant, and you know it."
Spock clasped his hands behind his back and headed for the door;
something told Kirk to follow him. They went down the hallway and
into Sarek's study, which was currently unoccupied.
******
Once inside with the door closed behind him, Spock told Kirk what he
had been unable to tell Sarek. "You are aware that I periodically
access the ship's computer in search of new music to play on my harp,"
he began hesitantly. Kirk nodded. "Shortly before I returned to
Vulcan to attain Kolinahr...perhaps a year earlier...I found this
song, an illogical, thoroughly emotional piece titled 'Where is
Love?'.
I never played it in public. The melody was...captivating enough in
itself, but combined with the lyrics...I suppose I found them a little
*too* relevant to my personal life, tending as they did to remind me
of.what I lacked. Yet when I returned to the Enterprise, that song
somehow came back to me. What do you think that means, Jim?"
On the surface, it seemed a strange thing for Spock to be wondering
about--but Kirk could see from the expression in the Vulcan's eyes
that he *was* genuinely puzzled and wanted his Captain's input on the
question. "Maybe it means you're not as afraid to know the truth
about yourself as you used to be," Kirk suggested quietly.
Spock nodded in acceptance, realizing also for the first time why he
had sung the song to Christine now that he could no longer blame the
pon farr. It was, after all, a love song--a song of longing and hope,
just the sort of emotions that had often been the only thing that
drove Spock to persevere--and he sensed that Christine understood
this. For surely it was that understanding and empathy that enabled
her to think well of his feeble, pon farr-tainted attempts at Human
courtship. At least his longing and hope for *her* love had been
fulfilled. "Do you not think Christine has a pleasant voice?" he
asked suddenly.
"I'm a starship Captain, not a music critic," Kirk quipped
facetiously.
"I will say, however, that your girls are in for a treat. I bet
Christine sings a mean lullaby. Well, I'd better get these presents
wrapped--and you better get back to the parlor before Christine tries
to get up and go looking for you."
"An excellent idea, Captain," Spock decided, following Kirk out of the
study. As he watched Kirk disappear into the room next door, he made
a mental note to ask his Human friend later for an explanation of the
term "lullaby"--and why Christine would think a
"mean" version would be of any benefit to T'Jaim and T'Krystyn.
******
Dinner was ready by the time Kirk finished wrapping the assorted
presents, and the rest of the evening passed pleasantly. Spock played
his Vulcan harp again after dinner--pointedly *without* vocal
accompaniment--though no one was quite sure if he was trying to
entertain everyone in general, the children (who once again sat
quietly and listened in rapt fascination), or just Christine (who sat
nearby at his elbow and obviously held the majority of his
attention).
McCoy hovered behind them, surreptitiously monitoring Christine's
physical condition and pleased at the continued stability of the
readings; he knew, as he knew Spock must know, that Christine was
still in some pain, and once they were back on the Enterprise, he was
determined to consign her to bed for at least another two weeks--but
for now, she did not seem to be adversely affected enough to warrant
forcing her to spend the most pleasant part of her stay here in bed.
Kirk sat on Spock's other side with T'Merit and T'Syrith, who sat in
her mother's lap, all with eyes and ears focused on Spock's
performance. Amanda, Sarek and Setek stood across the room, talking
among themselves, while the others either sat with the children and
watched Spock, perused some of Amanda's books, or meditated elsewhere
in the home. Occasionally, someone requested a specific piece of
Vulcan music, and Spock willingly
obliged, if he was familiar enough with it to play it.
It was late when Spock's relatives began to leave for the night, and
later still when they were all finally gone; Amanda and Sarek retired
almost immediately thereafter, admonishing Spock, as they went, to see
that Christine was not kept up too late. And McCoy made it a medical
order before he and Kirk went to bed.
At last, Spock got up and went to put up his harp, then returned for
Christine. "Bed-time?" she guessed regretfully.
"I think it best. You need as much rest as possible," Spock pointed
out quietly. "It has only been two days since you gave birth."
"I suppose you're right. This is my last full day here, though; I was
trying to stretch it out for as long as possible."
Spock was inwardly pleased that she was content enough to want the day
to last, but aloud he said only, "Tomorrow may be better." And with
that, he gathered her into his arms and carried her off to the guest
room.
******
Once there, he placed her on the bed and brought her nightgown to her,
then they both began to undress. By the time Spock had changed into
clean underclothes, Christine had her nightgown on and tossed her
dress to Spock as he turned around to face her. He caught it deftly
with one hand, folded it up carefully and put it with the other
clothes to be washed before going to join Christine.
She watched him worriedly as he settled into the bed and pulled the
covers up over himself; he became aware of it and raised an eyebrow at
her questioningly. "Spock...are you upset with me for asking you to
play 'Where is Love?' tonight?"
Spock's expression in response to this was unreadable. "Have I given
you the impression that I am?" he asked evasively.
"You've given me the impression that you were embarrassed to do it. I
didn't mean for you to be," Christine elaborated. "It's just that
that was the only Terran music I could think of, at that moment, that
you might know."
"Your request was *not* the cause of my...embarrassment," Spock tried
to reassure her. "You did not request that I *sing* it."
"Oh, *that* embarrassed you."
"Yes."
"Then why did you?"
"I do not know. *You* were singing; I thought...that you meant for me
to join you. It was not logical, but at the time, it seemed
appropriate," Spock admitted, clearly struggling to understand his own
motivations. He looked at Christine in confusion. "Why *did* you
request that piece of music, Christine? I was in pon farr when I
first played it for you."
"But it's a beautiful song, and when you sang it, it was as if it had
been written just for you," Christine pointed out gently.
"You...approved...of my performance, then. It *is* a pleasant memory
for you," he concluded incredulously, somehow not having expected
Christine to admit it verbally.
Christine nodded, smiling reassuringly at him. "Why else would I have
asked you to play it tonight? And don't be embarrassed about your
singing. I *did* mean for us to sing it together-and you sang it
well."
"Did I?" Spock questioned dubiously. "Perhaps it was *your own* voice
you were listening to. I did not realize you had such a talent."
"I don't know if it qualifies as a 'talent', but I used to practice a
lot
when I was off-duty."
"I do not recall hearing you," Spock returned, puzzled.
"You didn't. I decided to give it up when we were married because I
thought it would bother you."
"You need not have done that, Christine. If you had mentioned it to
me, I would have told you that I did not object," Spock told her
kindly.
"I'll remember that. I f *you'll* remember that I like to hear *you*
sing
sometimes, too."
Spock lowered his eyes, at once touched by her obvious sincerity and
suspicious that her emotions toward him had influenced her judgement.
"When we are alone," he acquiesced reluctantly.
"Perhaps you are not aware of it, but Vulcans do not sing. Vocal
music has somehow never really gained a place in our culture."
"I wondered why Sarek reacted so harshly," Christine recalled. "All
right, Spock, I understand. But you *will* remember, won't you?"
"Vulcans do not forget. And besides, I have promised." Spock reached
out to draw her against him, and soon she was nestled close in her
favorite sleeping position, with her head against his shoulder.
"I can't wait to see T'Jaim and T'Krystyn," she admitted softly.
"You will have to--at least until tomorrow," Spock reminded her,
almost whispering. "Try to sleep now, Christine."
As they began to drift off to sleep, Spock felt Christine's lips touch
his cheek in what she had described in the early days of their
marriage as a "good-night kiss".
END PART 17
My ST:TOS Fan-Fiction can be found here:
GAMIN DAVIS' SPOCK TREKS
http://spocktreks.bravehost.com
(Kirk & Spock Friendship, Spock/Christine
and pre-TOS Spock fan-fic plus Art, Poetry,
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