Starcrossed
by Lasha
Earth
James T. Kirk walked up the stairs like a solider going
to a court-martial, determination and a little bit of
fear in his stride. Reaching his destination he raised
his arm to knock, but at the last minute hesitated.
Shit! I've faced Klingons and entered the Neutral Zone
-- what could my fifteen-year-old child do that could be
worse?
Firmly knocking on the door, Kirk waited -- and waited.
He knew she was in there. Ever since she had come home
from school, Sam had locked herself in her room blaring
her music so loud it felt like the whole house was
shaking.
Damn it, you know what time it is, Sam! You are not
going to sulk your way out of dinner this time.
So, Kirk banged harder on the door, yelling as he did,
"Samantha!" A short time later, the door opened a crack,
and a brown eye appeared in the slit.
"Whatcha want?"
Kirk counted to ten -- in Romulan -- and sighed, asking,
"What time is it, Samantha?"
"1730."
"And what do we do in this house at 1730 everyday?"
"We eat dinner?"
"Point to Ms. Kirk. Turn off your music and then go help
your father downstairs in setting the table for dinner."
At that announcement, the door sprung open, and all
5'6'' inches of his daughter appeared millimeters in
front of his face, protesting this development.
"But, Dad, I was chatting with Bobby down the street,
can't I skip setting the table tonight? Please?"
Looking beyond his daughter's profile, Jim saw that
Sam's computer was on in her room, noting the engaging
face of a human boy on the monitor. The boy was sporting
a blue hairdo, a nose ring and seemed to be about
sixteen-years-old.
"I suggest you tell Robby..."
"Bobby."
"Bobby. Tell him you have chores to do and you'll talk
to him later. Your father is waiting for you downstairs.
I expect to see you there in three minutes." He used his
don't-mess-with-me command tone, hoping fervently it
would work.
Brown eyes glared into blue and a staring contest of
wills ensued, but a few minutes later Samantha Kirk
caved. Turning her back on her father, she flounced back
into her room, slamming the door behind her to further
prove her point.
Sighing, Jim walked away from the closed door, knowing
she wouldn't be coming out anytime soon.
Well, at least I saw her room. It had been at least
six months since we'd been allowed in there. Samantha
told us we were 'invading her privacy and her personal
space' and had forbade them admittance.
Taking a deep breath and shaking his head, Jim sighed
and wished that Sam had inherited more Vulcan genes than
human. Having a Vulcan teenager in the house surely must
be easier than having an emotional human/Vulcan hybrid,
prone to fits of anger, then cold bouts of indifference.
Turning around, the former captain of the Enterprise
walked downstairs to see what his bondmate was doing and
inform him that Sam might not be coming to dinner --
thanks to his ever-tactful negotiations.
Walking into the dinning room, Jim was greeted by the
sight of his lover bending over to pick what looked to
be a fork up off the floor. Even after twenty years, the
sight of Spock's backside still turned him on, so he
strolled over to gently touch that beloved back,
stroking downward until he reached those firm globes
encased in a pair of black trousers.
How about we skip dinner and go upstairs and make love?
Jim asked through their bond.
She's not coming down? Spock inquired, standing up,
then turning around to face his mate.
Switching to verbal communication, Jim continued, "I
told you that you should have gone up and talked to her.
She listens better to you. It must be all that logic,
appeals to her Vulcan side."
"She listens to you, Jim. It's just that both of you are
too much alike. You are emotional beings. You get angry,
she gets angry and then it's the end of the
conversation, because you both cease to communicate
until you calm down. It's like watching the younger
female version of James T. Kirk."
"God help us all."
"Since I happen to love the male version of James Kirk,
this doesn't concern me."
"Do you now, Mr. Spock?"
"Most assuredly."
That was all it took, that was all it ever took, Jim
thought; in the next moment they were in each other's
arms kissing passionately.
Jim wasn't aware of how long they were kissing, but he
did know the moment they were done when he felt his
bondmate stiffen and pull away, first mentally, then
physically.
Samantha?
Your daughter has the most dreadful timing.
She's my daughter now? Mister, if you've forgotten how
we made her, albeit with a little help from alien
technology, I will just have to remind you later
tonight.
I will look forward to it, t'hy'la.
Then Jim felt him break their connection and put his
shields back up, effectively blocking his thoughts and
emotions.
Jim felt the loss when Spock moved out of his arms and
he heard his mate ask their daughter, "How was school
today?"
"Fine," came the monotone reply.
An eyebrow rose at that answer, but Jim could see Spock
chose to ignore the obvious bait, instead saying, "If
you are ready to eat, Samantha, go get the plates."
Samantha T'Lyn Cha'Spock did as she was bid and set the
table for dinner. It was during this process that Jim
was able to really take a good look at his daughter's
appearance. When she was born, Sam had a golden cap of
blondish hair, but as she'd grown older the color had
turned darker. Now it was more of a chestnut brown with
golden highlights in the summer.
Of course you wouldn't have known that the last month
when she'd dyed her hair pink. He'd come home from work
to find his daughter with pink hair, black fingernails
and wearing a black leather jacket, stolen from his
closet, claiming she gone "retro 20th century," and that
all the kids at her school were 'doing it.' He'd gone
ballistic and a screaming match had ensued. Only Spock's
logical demeanor had resolved the situation, until a
truce could be worked out.
Sam had been allowed to wear the outfit for one month
and one month only in the deal her Vulcan father
engineered. And while her human parent was still not
happy about the arrangement, he figured a month was
better than a year.
This week she looked more normal, well, normal for a
human/Vulcan hybrid. She'd finally grown into her ears
and with her hair being so long, most of the time they
were covered up. You'd never known she was part Vulcan
unless she cut herself or pulled her hair up. There was
no greenish tinge to her skin, no arched eyebrows,
nothing except her blood -- and ears -- to denote her
Vulcan heritage. The Kirk genes were dominant in every
other aspect from the curve of her chin to the tip of
her nose and the tone in her voice when angered. There
was no denying she was his daughter.
Sometimes Jim wondered if his bondmate wished their
child had turned out to be more Vulcan and less human
since there were only ten thousand of his people left
after Vulcan had been destroyed. He knew her outbursts
had to be trying on his mate. Spock now had to put up
with not one but two emotional humans in his day-to-day
life. It was a good thing Spock loved him, lesser men
would have run screaming into the night after seeing
three year-old Samantha Kirk throw a temper tantrum.
Between her Kirk-inherited mule headedness and her
Vulcan simmering rage -- which Spock assured Jim was an
exact replica of his emotions at that age -- pointing
out that he'd once lost control and hit another child at
the Vulcan Academy. Raising Samantha had been more work
than wrestling a Gorn.
"Jim?"
Broken out of his reverie, Jim focused on his bondmate.
"Sorry, what were you saying, Spock?
"I said that I wanted to discuss what happened at the
doctors this afternoon."
"Sam's annual check-up? Everything's fine?" Fear gripped
him for a moment, and then passed at his lover's calm
expression.
"Samantha is fine. It is just there were some unexpected
results from one test, and I think we should discuss
it."
"It's not serious, right?"
"No."
"Then, how about after dinner, when we have some time to
ourselves, we talk about it?" And at this comment, Jim
stroked his lover's arm, opening up their bond slightly.
Yes, later.
Jim laughed at the slightly exasperated and aroused
Vulcan voice in his head, which promised retribution for
his boldness.
"Later," Jim replied softly.
"Are we going to eat now or are you going to hold hands
all night?" an annoyed female voice asked from behind
them.
"Tone, young lady," was the first thing he could think
of to say before threatening to ground her for
insubordination, wishing not for the first time that she
was a young cadet under his command, because maybe then
she'd listen to him for once! He'd have to remember to
send a vid to his mother tomorrow and apologize for his
own teenage rebellion so many years ago in Iowa.
"I suggest we eat," came the ever calm and sane voice of
reason in the house.
Two sets of identically shaped eyes turned to look at
the Vulcan who was seating himself at the table, not
waiting for the rest of his human family. Both pairs of
shoulders shrugged, seemingly as if to say, if you can't
beat them, join them, and the other two sat down.
Dinner was a quiet affair, which lasted twenty-five
minutes, and as soon as Samantha was done eating, she
asked, "May I be excused?" Given a positive answer, she
raced out of the room, upstairs and a minute after that;
Jim could hear her music booming out of her bedroom once
more.
Some days he'd rather face a fleet of Romulan
bird-of-prey warships than deal with his teenage
daughter.
A short time later, with the dinner table cleared, Jim
walked out on his front porch and sat down on the love
seat he and Spock had put there when they bought the
house twelve years ago.
The stars were just beginning to come out in the
cloud-less San Francisco night sky. Closing his eyes, he
leaned his head back and sank deeper into the
comfortable cushions of the love seat.
He must have drifted into a light sleep because the soft
whoosh of the front door sliding open woke him and
moments later he felt a soothing, familiar warmth next
to him. He opened his eyes and murmured, "Where have you
been?"
"Sending a message to my father on New Vulcan," was the
measured reply.
"That took awhile. I thought you'd be out here much
earlier."
Spock responded without delay, but his sharply angled
eyebrows drew together in apprehension, relaying to his
bondmate that the message had not been a normal missive.
"My apologies. The message was more complicated than I'd
anticipated."
Jim frowned at his mate, sensing through their bond an
uneasiness. "Everything is fine on New Vulcan? Your
father and Ambassador Spock are well?"
"My father is well, as is Ambassador Spock. No, the
message concerned Samantha."
Now Jim was confused.
As if sensing his bondmate's bewilderment, Spock
continued, "Do you recall when I informed you there had
been an unexpected result from one of Samantha's
aptitude tests?"
"Yes."
"As you know, when Samantha was six and a half we had
her psi abilities tested at Starfleet Medical."
Jim nodded his head in acknowledgement, "Of course I
remember. We had wondered if she'd inherited any of your
Vulcan telepathic abilities, but the results were
inconclusive, because while she tested above-average for
a human, she had below-average scores for a Vulcan. I
seem to recall Sarek looked quite relieved that day as
he'd been concerned we might have to bond his very
emotional granddaughter to a extremely logical Vulcan
boy if her scores proved her to be telepathic. I think
all of us could guess how that would have turned out."
Spock sighed, "Jim, my father was not 'relieved' as you
so poetically put it, and he was merely attempting to
secure Samantha a proper bondmate if the situation
deemed it necessary. It didn't-"
"Thank God," Jim said under his breath. He had not
wanted to marry off his seven year-old daughter, no
matter what Vulcan customs were.
Spock broke in. "The test was re-administered and the
results have now changed -- dramatically."
"What?" Jim's eyes grew wide. "But isn't that
impossible? I thought one's psi ability doesn't change
more than a few points in either direction over time."
"Normally, a human's do not. However, Samantha is not
100% human."
Turning slightly in his seat, Jim leaned in close to
look directly into Spock's eyes, "So what you are saying
is that the results of our daughter's psi test have
changed, and from your expression, I take it she's now
testing out as a telepath?"
Spock let out a long deep breath and stated,
"Affirmative," in that timbre Jim knew as his former
first officer's 'all-hell-is-about-to-break-loose-so-wat
"Motherfucker!" And with that James Kirk laid his head
on Spock's shoulder, wondering what he'd done in a
previous life to warrant this sort of torment. His
daughter was a telepath.
Through their bond, Spock sensed his mate's distress; he
spoke softly, "Vulcans sometimes show increased
telepathic ability during puberty. My own psi abilities
went up thirty points after I turned seventeen. I hadn't
even considered that a possibility until the doctors
informed me of the results today. It appears that my
Vulcan genes are more dominant than we first surmised."
"So what does this mean?"
"Mean?"
Damn Spock and his logic! "Yes, mean, Commander. I am
fairly certain you understand what I am referring to. Is
she a telepath like you? Like Sarek? Does this mean one
day she will require a bondmate? Can she even bond with
a Vulcan? Because up until now we've been assuming that
she's more human than Vulcan and have been turning down
every single request the elders of New Vulcan have made
with regards to her acquiring a bondmate."
Spock shook his head, "No, we have turned down those
requests because Samantha is too young, and frankly at
this time, quite unsuitable to be anyone's mate. Can you
envision our daughter bonded to say S'ran?"
Jim smiled as he thought of Spock's second cousin's
youngest child, born on New Vulcan after the destruction
of their homeworld. The boy was eighteen, regal and
stoic and Samantha would drive him insane with her
emotionality, not to mention her constant questioning of
the 'logic of logic.'
"Point taken, Mr. Spock. But if she's telepathic, won't
she need to bond eventually?"
"Not necessarily, even with her increased scores, she's
a weak telepath by Vulcan standards. She doesn't come
close to my psi abilities, just as I cannot compete with
my father, who is of full Vulcan heritage."
Your telepathic abilities are fine, Spock. If they were
any higher, I think sometimes when we're making love I
might die from the pleasure.
Jim felt a light kiss brush his forehead and the love
shone through their connection.
"We are lucky, Jim. From the moment I touched your mind,
I knew we were compatible, just as I knew Nyota and I
were not. That sort of compatibility is rare even among
Vulcan couples. I cannot predict the future. Perhaps
Samantha will require a bondmate, perhaps she will not.
Maybe she will join Starfleet like her father and..."
"...meet a beautiful, logical alien whose very presence
makes his heart race with passion."
"And anger."
Jim smiled in remembrance, and he saw the corners of
Spock's mouth lift slightly in response. Their fights
that first year on the Enterprise had been legendary.
"It just makes the sex even more sizzling," he smirked
at his bondmate.
Then, suddenly Jim was wrapped in Spock's strong,
possessive embrace, and he was kissing Jim wildly,
feverishly.
"Ugh. Get a room!"
Jim could felt Spock break their kiss, turn in the
direction their daughter was standing and respond in a
calm voice, "I fail to see the logic in that statement,
Samantha, since this is our house, and we have many
rooms inside."
"Dad, can you please explain to Father, what 'get a
room' means?" This statement was made with an extreme
rolling of the eyes, a move that was definitely a
Kirk-related trait.
Grinning at his daughter's obvious discomfort and
embarrassment, Jim explained to Spock, "'Get a room' is
20th century slang meaning loosely: take your public
displays of affection in private where they belong.
Isn't that right, Sam?"
"Yes," came the grudging response, her horror at seeing
her parents kissing still evident on her face.
"I still fail to see why we should go inside. The
neighbors are aware your father and I are bonded. Most
married couples kiss."
"No, they don't!" Brown eyes met brown, one extremely
logical, the other very emotional and young.
Samantha continued, "Tina Henderson's parents: they
barely speak to one another. Bobby's parents are
divorced and Reva McGuire, well, her parents kiss, but
that's because they just got married. You guys have been
together for
eons. It's just not normal. All my friends think
it's cute-"
Cute?
I am a very attractive man, Spock.
Spock raised his eyebrow.
"...you are so lucky, Samantha. Your dads love each
other. But they don't know how utterly gross it is to
know your parents are still doing it after being
together for so long. Shouldn't you be over
that by now?"
Yes, and if she only knew I was going to be doing that
to you later tonight, Spock.
"Dad, how could you? I'm scarred for life!"
Both men looked at one another in surprise, as they knew
Jim had not spoken aloud.
Spock was the first to recover. "Samantha, did you hear
what your father just said?"
Chestnut hair moved as the head nodded, "How could you
not hear that?"
Jim stood up and moved closer to his daughter, not
touching her, knowing from his own experiences with his
bondmate that touching a telepath could be painful if
they weren't prepared for the contact.
"Sam, honey. I didn't say that out loud. What I said was
meant to be private and for your father only. It was
through our bond. Do you understand?"
A surprised and very quizzical expression greeted him,
and for the first time in many months, James Kirk saw
the beautiful little girl his daughter had been. The one
who had loved her "Daddy," before teenage hormones and
rebellion had taken over.
"You mean I was able to hear your thoughts like Father
does? I'm telepathic?"
"Yes."
Brown eyes lit up and a happy look crossed her face, but
only one word came out: "Cool."
Looking over at his bondmate, Jim saw the eyebrow go
even higher.
"This is serious, Samantha. It is a part of your Vulcan
heritage. I was just about to tell your father when you
interrupted. But until you can get your abilities under
control, learn to shield your thoughts and emotions, you
could experience dramatic mood swings. Which is why I
have contacted your grandfather to arrange a visit to
New Vulcan for you. You must learn to control your
telepathy. There are teachers on New Vulcan that can
show you how to do this."
"I can stay with Grandfather and miss school?"
"Yes."
Jim felt the whirlwind that was his daughter push past
him to get to his bondmate. He saw Spock stand up as Sam
threw herself into his arms.
"Thank you, Father." Sam said in a hushed tone.
"You must remember you are not being sent to New Vulcan
as a vacation. Learning to control your new ability is
work. Hard work. You must be respectful at all times to
your instructors. They will not tolerate insolence.
However, I am sure given proper time and training, you
will make us proud."
Drawing herself up to her full height, Sam released her
father from the embrace, bowed her head in submission
and said, "I will try my hardest, Father."
It was the most Vulcan-like thing he had ever seen his
child do, as most of her behaviors had been completely
human.
"That is all I expect," and Jim watched as his husband
gently leaned down to kiss the top of their daughter's
head. The two dark heads stayed together for a moment
and Jim felt his heart ache, the same way that it had
the day Sam had been born and Spock had held their
daughter for the first time.
"When do I leave?"
"It will take a few weeks to make proper arrangements.
We will let you know."
All this was news to him, and while Jim agreed with
everything his mate was saying, he also wanted to talk
to Spock about this decision, and this talk needed to be
done away from prying ears -- and minds. His mind came
up with the only solution he could think of.
"Sweetheart, your father and I need to talk about some
things. How about you go down the street and visit Bobby
for awhile?"
Sam looked stunned, but replied, "Really?"
"Really. What time is it now?"
Two voices said, "1910." Great, now he had two walking
time clocks in his house.
"Be back by 2100, okay?"
Jim felt 110 pounds fly into his chest, hugging him
tightly, and then releasing him quickly to turn and run
down the porch steps. Yelling as she ran, "You're the
best, Daddy. I can't wait to tell Bobby I am going to
New Vulcan!"
Muttering under his breath, "I can't wait either. If it
gets that blue-haired delinquent away from you."
"Jim!"
"What?"
"Are you talking to yourself?"
"No, just thinking out loud."
His lover aimed a reproachful look, then gestured for
him to rejoin him on the loveseat. A few moments later,
Jim was in his favorite position, arms wrapped around
Spock's chest, head on those strong shoulders.
"Is that the message you were sending to Sarek?"
"Yes. I was informing my father of the situation and
requesting that he obtain a Vulcan tutor for Samantha."
"He'll be overjoyed," Jim said with a broad grin.
Spock looked puzzled at his bondmate's statement. "Why
do you say this?"
"Let's just say that ever since we bonded, I think your
father wishes that I had not been successful that day at
the koon-ut-kal-if-fee."
"Jim, that is not accurate. My father does not wish you
dead. He admires you and what you've accomplished."
"Spock, your father respects Admiral James T. Kirk of
Starfleet. He tolerates Jim Kirk, son-in-law. And if any
man had done to Sam what I did to you...let's just say I
completely understand Sarek's anger now."
"Vulcans do not feel anger. That is a human emotion."
Spock replied.
"Need I remind you of a choking incident on the
Enterprise bridge? Then tell me Vulcans don't feel
anger." Jim smirked.
"That was an isolated incidence. I was emotionally
compromised after the destruction of Vulcan and my
mother's death. However, Sarek has always been in
complete control of his emotions."
"Even when I broke his son's heart and abandoned him
with a newborn so I could fly around the galaxy, while
you raised Sam alone on New Vulcan before we reunited? I
remember the way your father looked at me the first
couple of years after we were bonded and it wasn't with
admiration. I sometimes wonder if he would have
preferred you married T'Pring that day. That way your
children would have been more Vulcan."
"My father has never stated he has found you an unworthy
spouse. You challenged for me that day and won. T'Pring
lost. It is the Vulcan way. It would be illogical to
wish for another outcome."
"No, I think Sarek has become resigned to the fact that
he has a human son-in-law and a mostly human
granddaughter. Not that he's ever been unkind to Sam. He
loves her -- in his uniquely Vulcan way -- but now that
he has another chance to show off her Vulcan abilities.
I bet that is making him happy the House of Sarek won't
end with you."
"Happiness is a human emotion, Jim. I don't see Sarek
being happy, do you?"
"Proud, then. Vulcans can be very proud beings, can they
not?"
"Yes."
"Point to Admiral Kirk then."
The beginnings of a slight smile formed around his
lover's mouth and Spock replied, "I agree with my
father, humans are most illogical creatures."
"But that's why you love us, right?"
"How could I not?"
Raising one free hand, Jim began to stroke Spock's chest
through his shirt. "How about we not talk about your
father, New Vulcan and Sam? Instead, why don't we go
upstairs and do
that while we have the house to ourselves?"
THE END
"A splendid idea, Admiral."
One quick kiss later, and Jim was pulling Spock to his
feet. They were both about to walk to the front door
when a bright light flashed across the California sky.
"Shooting star?"
"Affirmative."
"On Earth in the past, superstitious people believed
that if you saw a shooting star and made a wish, then
your wish would come true. Want to make a wish with me,
Spock?"
"Wishes are illogical, Jim. Besides what else could I
wish for? I have my t'hy'la and my daughter. My life is
full."
Jim drew in a breath and paused, trying to suppress his
emotions. Sometimes his most logical Vulcan surprised
him with the depths of his love. He might not show it on
the outside, but inside it was there. Jim could feel it
everyday through their bond. He had been stupid to ever
deny their relationship all those years ago right after
Sam had first been born.
"No, you are right. What else could we wish for, when we
have it all?"
Spock slowly broke out of their embrace and said,
"Coming?"
"In a minute." Spock nodded and went inside.
Standing for a few minutes on their front porch, Jim
continued to stare at the sky. And he knew without a
doubt thirteen years ago he had made the right choice.
Spock and Sam were his family, his home. And while he
still missed the thrill of being a starship captain,
nothing could compare to this.
A voice in his mind beckoned, full of desire and love.
T'hy'la, I am lonely.
Giving one final glance at the stars, Jim opened the
door and went in.
I'm coming, Spock.