Sacrifice

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek and I do not make any money from these writing.

Title: Sacrifice

Author: Raythe

Pairing: Kirk/Spock

Fandom: Star Trek XI (2009 Movie) – Abrams Universe

Warnings: Slash, First Time, Romance, AU, Big Time Angst this Chapter, WIP

Summary: I think the title of the chapter says it all. Everyone … meet Lord Damascus Raines.

POV: This chapter is done in Kirk’s point of view.

Feedback is like crack to me! I appreciate each and every note of encouragement and constructive criticism. Please continue to let me know what you think.

Raythe

CHAPTER SIX: ENTER THE VILLAIN

Kirk’s POV

Jim stood stiffly between Spock and McCoy just inside the doorway to the Espladian Banquet Hall. His palms were slick with sweat and his stomach was clenched into a hard knot. He felt suffocated by the hall’s opulent furnishings: gold curtains with a blue fleur-de-lis pattern, an intricate geometric parquet floor and oversized portraits of Starfleet officers past on every available wall space. Even the open French doors that led out to a moonlit drenched garden were not bringing in enough fresh air to offset the stodgy lavishness. Jim tugged at the collar of his dress uniform as if it were choking off his ability to breath.

Suddenly, Spock’s hand lightly drifted down his arm. The touch was soothing and Jim was able to take in a deep lungful of cool air. He glanced gratefully over at the Vulcan. Spock’s brown eyes were filled with warmth and Jim couldn’t help the rush of pleasure that filled him. This was Spock comforting him. This was Spock caring for him. This was Spock loving him. Spock! What had seemed like an impossible dream before was now reality. If only this nightmare with Raines would vanish then he could let himself believe his good fortune with the Vulcan.

“Hell’s bells! Seeing this much royal blue in one place is making me itch,” McCoy groused as his eyes followed the parade of officers before them in their blue dress uniforms.

The hall was crowded with Starfleet and Vulcans alike. Jim was reminded of one of his first-grade parties where all the boys were on one side and the girls on the other. Only in this case, it was divided between Starfleet and Vulcans. The Starfleet officers clustered around the open bar while the Vulcans, in their green and gold formal attire, stood stiffly on the other side of the room sipping on effervescent fruit juices. Jim realized all over again how singular Spock was; human, Vulcan and a Starfleet officer to boot.

‘How lonely he must feel sometimes in both worlds,’ Jim thought, but Spock did not show it, or at least was not currently showing it.

The Vulcan’s alert brown eyes were scanning the crowd. His handsome face showed nothing other than calm, formal civility. If he did indeed feel singular and apart, it did not appear to bother him. McCoy, on the other hand, was looking anything but calm. He continued to twitch in his uniform, scratching at his skin through the thick material.

“Have you ever thought that maybe you’re allergic to wool, Bones? You should ask for the poly blend dress uniform instead,” Jim said.

“Poly blend? Poly blend? Are you mad? There are toxins in that material that can strip the skin off of your back and it’s been shown to cause cancer in lab rats!” McCoy said.

“I’m not even going to ask where you got those medical facts from,” Jim said, shaking his head in faint amusement at the doctor’s hypochondria. “We’d all be dead a million times over if life was as dangerous as you think.”

“One day, Jim, you’ll experience a terrible medical emergency that I have warned you about all these years and you’ll say, ‘why didn’t I listen to McCoy? Why o why didn’t I follow the doctor’s orders?’” McCoy said, with a nod of satisfaction.

“Considering you have warned the Captain of every possible medical complication from the likely to the impossible, Doctor, you have almost guaranteed at least part of your statement will come true,” Spock observed dryly.

Jim chuckled, this time for real. McCoy narrowed his eyes at the Vulcan unsure if he was being teased or not. Jim thought he heard the doctor mutter something about ‘pointy-eared hobgoblins’ and ‘bloody alien immune systems’ but he wasn’t sure.

“Do you see Pike? I’m sure he’ll be glued to Raines’ side,” Jim asked them, his heart rate ratcheting up again as he thought he caught a glimpse of the Admiral by the bar. Suddenly, Jim wished he had a drink. A lot of drinks.

“Not yet,” McCoy said, as he strained to see around the officers milling around the appetizer table. “I don’t even see the rest of the Enterprise’s crew.”

Jim’s jaw clenched. A wave of jealousy and dread ran through him at the thought of seeing Uhura now. ‘That’s all I need is to watch Nyota hanging on Spock while I have to stand there and act like its not eating me alive. If I have to face that while making nice with Raines … well, today may qualify as one of the worst of my life,’ Jim thought morosely.

Spock must have heard those thoughts pretty clearly because the Vulcan again brushed his hand unobtrusively down Jim’s arm and Jim thought he heard Spock’s voice in his mind say, ‘Fear not … you are the only one I want.’

The desire to grab the Vulcan and kiss him in the middle of the hall rose up in Jim almost uncontrollably. Not only would it not be a good idea to kiss Spock here for a load of normal reasons, such as Uhura’s feelings, improper public behavior for officers and the like, it would also play havoc with their plan for dealing with Raines.

‘The plan … good God, why did I agree to do this?’ Jim thought. ‘It’s insane.’

The thoughts of Spock and Raines suddenly seemed a bit too much to bear. So when a waiter with a tray of filled champagne flutes walked past, Jim snagged a glass. He downed it in one swallow. The champagne’s bubbles tickled his throat and he felt the pleasant wave of unconcern that alcohol can bring. He was already looking for another waiter. Maybe he’d ask them to bring him a bottle.

“Slow down there, cowboy,” McCoy advised, taking the empty glass from Jim’s hand and setting it on a side table. “That’s Hyborian champagne. Not the human stuff. It’s got more than double the alcohol content. And you need to be … focused … for the plan to work.”

Jim let out a bark of laughter. “The plan,” Jim shook his head, smiling sickly. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.” Frustration caused him to run his hand through his short hair and tug at the roots. With an explosive rush of breath, he asked, “Why are we doing this?”

“Because we have no other choice,” McCoy said, still facing towards the crowd, but then he turned to look at Jim. There were dark shadows under his eyes like the situation was already losing him sleep even though he’d just learned about it this afternoon. “It’s either you convince Raines to let us investigate Feyaud’s murder or … we do it anyways and all hell breaks loose: Starfleet loses its ship technology, the Vulcans lose Neos, you lose your captaincy, and maybe we all lose our lives if Raines is psychotic enough.”

Jim closed his eyes tight for a moment. He knew the consequences. He’d played out every other scenario than the one McCoy had offered and none of them led anywhere good. But would McCoy’s solution come up any better? It sounded crazy on its face to actually ask Raines to allow them to investigate Feyaud’s death, but McCoy believed that not only would Raines agree to it, that he would jump at the chance.

“Tell me why you think Raines is going to allow us to investigate him again,” Jim said, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth to ease the urge for another drink.

McCoy sighed. “Because he still wants you, Jim.”

“We’re assuming he still wants me,” Jim corrected, crossing his arms over his chest and hugging himself. “Which is a pretty big assumption considering he threw me out of his life eight years ago and threatened my mother’s life.”

“And yet, his continuing desire for you explains his current behavior, Jim,” Spock said, slowly. “Raines may have led you to believe he did not care for you any longer, but I doubt that was the truth. You are not a man easily forgotten or … put aside.”

Jim couldn’t help the flush that heated his cheeks. He said, “Raines doesn’t see me like … like you do, Spock. He was clear back then that I was worth nothing since I betrayed him.”

“He sounds more like a man scorned, Jim, than a disinterested party,” McCoy piped up.

“He threatened my mother’s life to stop me from pursuing a murder investigation, not to get me back into his bed!” Jim argued.

McCoy threw up his arms, but when one of the nurses he knew gave him a puzzled look, he gave her a tight smile and lowered them to his sides. With a forced smile that looked more like a grimace, he asked, “Harding did the threatening, right?”

“Yes, but he must have been acting on Raines’ orders,” Jim said, keeping his voice down to stop drawing more attention to them than Bones already had.

“That’s your assumption, Jim,” McCoy said. “You don’t actually know that. Maybe Harding acted without Raines’ knowledge. Remember that if Harding did the actual killing of Feyaud, he had his own reasons to make sure you kept your mouth shut. Hell, perhaps the incident at Deep Space 3 was just an accident and Harding took advantage of the coincidence. We don’t know.”

“And from your observations of Raines’ character,” Spock said, his brow furrowing as he talked out his thoughts, “it seems … unlikely that he would have behaved in such a manner in regards to your mother.”

Jim’s raked his teeth over his lower lip. The situation with his mother had seemed … too clumsy for Raines. He’d thought so at the time, but the fear that his mother could be killed had overcome that belief. Besides, even if it was Harding doing the threatening, and not Raines, it didn’t mean that his mother wouldn’t be just as dead if he kept pushing things.

“Okay … so if Raines didn’t have Harding threaten my mother, if he didn’t have anything to do with the Deep Space 3 incident then the only reason he thinks I hate him is because –”

“You think he killed Martin!” McCoy yelled, then grimaced as heads turned in their direction. He leant in towards Jim and whispered, “You offer him the chance to prove he didn’t and he’ll be eager as a kitten for its mother’s milk to let you investigate to your heart’s intent.”

“So you’re assuming that he has no fear of being found out?” Jim asked, even though he already guessed the answer, which was that Raines didn’t act out of fear. Ever.

McCoy’s face lit up with a nasty smile as he said, “Because I bet he’s an arrogant son-of-a bitch and thinks he’s covered his tracks sufficiently so that no one will be able to prove he had anything to do with Feyaud’s murder. But he doesn’t know you or us as well as he thinks he does. We’ll find the evidence no matter how deep he buried it. Besides if he was willing to kill a man over a lost business deal, I’m sure there are a lot of skeletons in his closet. We’ll find something.”

“But if he sees us getting close to the truth then …” Jim broke off, unable to say the words out loud. ‘He’ll kill us. All three of us. Probably saving me for last so that I suffer the most and know that I’m responsible for your deaths.’

“We’ll deal with that when it comes … if it comes,” McCoy said. “Look, Jim, there’s no other way I can see to resolve the mess that we’re in. So unless you have a better suggestion … this is our plan.”

“We will succeed, Jim,” Spock said softly, the brush of his breath against Jim’s ear.

“We will,” Jim said, with forced conviction.

“Maybe we should mingle?” McCoy asked. “We’re not having any luck finding Raines standing here.”

“That would appear to be a wise decision,” Spock said.

“Right,” Jim said, but still none of them moved. “Well, then again … staying right here is good, too.”

Spock lightly pressed a hand against Jim’s lower back and began to guide him into the throng of people. McCoy stepped in front of them to take point. Spock’s touch eased the tension in his body, but at the same time Jim’s thoughts became more chaotic. All he could think of was that it was his bad choices that had led them to this. If he hadn’t been such a fuck up when he was young they wouldn’t be faced with this impossible task. Why hadn’t he avoided Raines to begin with? Why hadn’t he kept it at least professional and not seduced the man?

‘But, I didn’t! I didn’t seduce Damascus. He seduced me,’ Jim thought and his memory of that first time with Raines flooded back.

It was winter so a fire was burning brightly in the antique stone fireplace in Raines’ study. The logs popped and snapped as the sap in them heated and exploded. Jim was sitting on the oversized leather sofa facing the fire. His jeans were damp from a slog through the snow earlier so he had eagerly stretched out his legs towards the fire to dry them. Raines had, at first, stood by the fireplace, a balloon-snifter of cognac on the mantle, his piercing eyes narrowed in thoughtfulness or mirth, Jim hadn’t known, taking in the teenager sprawled on his couch.

‘I wasn’t much for standing on ceremony back then. Or respecting the rich and powerful. Guess not much has changed,’ Jim thought.

Then Raines had moved, almost languidly, but clearly with intent and had sat down beside Jim.

‘He sat so close that the heat from his body felt like a line of embers,’ Jim recalled.

As they talked of the scholarship, Raines’ breath had puffed against the side of his face. It smelt orange and hot. Jim had wondered how the older man would taste if they kissed.

‘Then his hand was on my thigh, sliding up and cupping me through my jeans. He was so strong,’ Jim remembered. ‘When he wrapped his other hand around the back of my neck and pulled me in for a kiss that lasted longer than my breath did, I couldn’t get away, even if I had wanted to. And afterwards I gasped and laughed and felt excited and scared all at the same time. Remember that?’ Jim asked himself.

He did remember. Even though he had spent so much time forgetting Raines, the memories came back in bold colors like they had occurred yesterday and not eight years ago. He could even recall that Raines had indeed tasted of orange and, strangely, of smoke, too. He remembered the sound of the leather couch squeaking when the older man had laid him down on it and how solid Raines’ body had felt above his. He could still see the way Damascus had looked like a conqueror surveying his newly subjugated property when he’d gazed down on him as he’d stripped off every single piece of Jim’s clothing.

The memories seemed more real and substantial than the reality of his situation now. Except for Spock’s hand on his lower back, which was in itself a miracle, Jim felt numb and disconnected. His eyes automatically scanned the room, looking for Raines’ familiar figure. Would he still recognize Damascus or would eight years have dimmed the vitality and virility of the man?

Jim suddenly froze and Spock went rigid beside him.

‘He looks the same. No, he looks … better … than before. How is that possible?’ Jim thought almost helplessly as his gaze alighted for the first time in eight years on Lord Damascus Raines.

“That’s him, isn’t it?” McCoy breathed, stopping abruptly, too.

Jim found that his throat was so tight and dry that he couldn’t speak so he nodded instead. Time seemed to slow down to a crawl as Raines came fully into view.

Damascus was walking unimpeded down the center of the banquet hall about twenty feet away from them. Pike and Sarek flanked him. They were talking to Raines animatedly, while Raines merely nodded, his hands clasped behind his back and his head down. Behind them was a phalanx of Starfleet officers. The officers were walking so close to Raines’ back that it appeared that he had a blue cape on. But in truth, Damascus was wearing only his signature black from head to toe.

Jim found himself looking at Raines a part at a time, as if he needed to do so in order to take the whole man in. He started with Raines’ knee-high leather boots, which were polished to a near mirror-like gloss. Tailored black pants were tucked into their tops and accentuated his heavily muscled thighs. The coat he wore was cut so that it followed the perfect v-shape of his chest to his waist. The top two buttons of the black silk shirt he had on were undone, giving just a peek of his defined, broad chest.

Raines’ mahogany-colored hair was still untouched by frost, either because of art or nature, and it hung long enough to brush the tops of his shoulders. He still wore the short, refined goatee that had so often left Jim’s skin red after they had kissed for hours. What remained to take in of Raines were his facial features: the aquiline, aristocratic nose, the sharp cheekbones, the arched eyebrows that could show amusement or anger at a moment’s notice and then, of course, his eyes.

No one who met Raines could forget his eyes.

Luckily for Jim, Raines was still looking down at his feet, because the moment he looked up, the Captain would be directly in his sights. But even without seeing Raines’ eyes now, Jim could still picture them in his mind. They changed to match Raines’ mood. At times, they were the color of quicksilver or of moonlight on black water or of a sea in the middle of a storm. And, once, Jim had thought they exhibited a strange animal night shine, but he couldn’t swear to it, because he’d drunk a whole bottle of scotch before it happened.

“Jesus! I see why you fell for him, Jim. He’s quite … impressive,” McCoy said then added softly, “Impressive in a great white shark kind of way. With jaws wide and teeth exposed that is.”

McCoy was right. Raines was just like that unmatched predator. Only he wasn’t limited to the ocean. It was what had attracted Jim to Raines in the beginning and what had repulsed him the end: Raines’ strength matched with an equal and overriding ruthlessness.

“Starfleet and the Vulcans don’t know the heap of the trouble they’re getting themselves into,” McCoy said.

Spock’s hand against Jim’s back was suddenly moving to grip him around the waist. Jim thought for one moment that Spock was going to crush him to the Vulcan’s chest and spirit them out of there.

“Spock?” Jim asked, jerking his gaze away from Raines. “What’s wrong?”

The Vulcan turned and looked down at him. There were emotions in Spock’s eyes that Jim couldn’t read. “I fear that our path will be even more difficult than we at first thought,” he responded.

“We don’t have enough on our plate already with proving a murder?” McCoy asked.

“My father …” Spock said, his dark brown eyes flickering over to Sarek. “Something is not right.”

“Not right? He looks ok,” Jim said as he glanced over at Sarek who was leaning in towards Raines. The older Vulcan looked as patrician and unemotional as always.

“No … something is wrong,” Spock said. “He is—”

But before Spock could finish his sentence, Raines’ head lifted and his gaze pinned the three of them where they stood like helpless butterflies.

Then he smiled; sculpted lips parting; a flash of bright, white teeth.

Jim couldn’t breathe when Raines began to walk towards them. Like a force of gravity, his entourage followed in his wake. Jim’s emotions tumbled one after another so fast that he didn’t know what he felt. Raines was still beautiful, still strong, and Jim would have been a liar if he believed that no part of him didn’t thrill to see Damascus looking at him again with that … particular interest … as if he were the only one in he universe. Jim had believed he would never see that look again and had told himself he hadn’t missed it even though clearly some part of him had.

‘Bones is right. He does still want me,’ Jim thought, shocked.

Then Spock shifted against him and the part of Jim that was still the emotionally-starved sixteen-year-old faded away. Even though he and Spock had just begun to know one another, had just exposed their deeper feelings, this small beginning was enough to break the enchantment that Raines exuded. The fleeting thought passed through Jim’s mind that as strong as his connection with Spock was now, what would it be like after they were fully together?

But his thoughts of Spock had distracted him from Raines and his inattention had left him vulnerable. Because suddenly Raines was less than a foot in front of him. The older man close up was even more imposing than far away. He was taller than Jim, taller even than Spock, and broader as well. Jim felt small, almost childlike in comparison.

‘But I’m not a child any longer. I’m not the weak person I was back then,’ Jim thought viciously, as if by chiding himself enough he could eliminate what he felt.

“James, how well you look,” Raines said, his voice deep and rich like honey, as he clasped one of Jim’s hands in both of his.

Raines’ hands were freezing, like he’d been sticking them in a snow bank. They hardly warmed even as the temperature in Jim’s hand dropped. Jim wanted to rip his hand from Raines’ grasp, but he didn’t when his eyes caught sight of Admiral Pike on Raines’ left. Pike was staring at Jim, intently, the look on his face urging Jim to remember his position, Starfleet’s position and the Vulcans’ position. And speaking of the Vulcans, Sarek was standing on Raines’ right.

Sarek’s expressionless face was also turned towards Jim, studying him. Jim wondered if the Vulcan knew about his past with Raines and was currently dissecting Jim’s worth with a Vulcan’s dispassionate mind. Perhaps he was calculating what the odds were of Jim destroying the Vulcans’ chance for a home world. And what would Sarek think if he knew that Spock and he were lovers … or would be lovers? But it was none of those thoughts that helped Jim keep it together. Instead it was a simple observation. ‘Spock has his eyes,’ Jim thought and smoothed his own expression towards one of civil welcome to Raines.

“And you, Damascus,” Jim said, through numb lips. “You don’t look an hour different than when I … than the last time I saw you.”

Jim saw the stillness that fell over Raines at his words. The ‘last time’ had been when Raines had cruelly dismissed him.

‘If you leave me now, James, expect never to return,’ Raines had said.

‘I can’t stay … not if you’re going to hurt Martin!’ Jim had yelled in response.

‘Then your love for me is not great enough,’ Raines had responded. ‘You are a traitor. A betrayer.’

‘That’s not true! This is wrong! What you’re doing is wrong!’ Jim had said, but he had known then that Raines would not listen. Even before the man had physically turned his back on him.

Jim was snapped back to the present as Raines’ spoke again. So strange to see the warm smile on his lips when his memory of Damascus’ scowl of disgust was so fresh in his mind.

“These must be the Enterprise’s First Officer and Chief Medical Officer that I’ve heard so much about,” Raines said as his eyes flickered over to Spock then McCoy, but he did not let go of Jim’s hand.

When Jim tried to draw it back to gesture to the men in introduction, Raines tightened his hold for a moment before gently releasing him.

“Yes,” Jim said, resisting the urge to wipe his hand on his pants. “This is Mr. Spock and Dr. Leonard McCoy.”

All three men nodded curtly to one another. Spock’s expression was as smooth and noncommittal as ever, but Jim could tell that the Vulcan was perturbed by Raines’ presence and actions. McCoy’s emotions were more in the open. An almost amused antagonism was evident in his raised eyebrows and a quirked grimace.

“I’ve avidly learnt of all your recent … exploits, James,” Raines said, with a subtle pursing of his lips. “It seems like your penchant for bold actions has taken you far.”

“He’s one of our most gifted officers,” Pike said, lightly patting Jim on the shoulder, a broad smile lighting his face.

“Ah, but what is valued in war time … is not always the same as in peace unfortunately, is it, Christopher?” Raines remarked.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jim asked, his voice tight. A warning glance from Pike caused Jim to add, “I’m curious because I value your … insights.”

“I’m sure,” Raines said, a smile gracing his lips, clearly taking pleasure in goading Jim. “It’s something that Christopher and I were discussing earlier. How young, impressionable, head-strong officers often run into trouble in Starfleet’s current … bureaucratic … environment. After all, a less … imaginative … officer, the type of officer that Starfleet seems to have a glut of would have run back to the fleet after such a desperate encounter with Nero over Vulcan’s skies.” Raines’ gaze tipped towards Spock, his eyes glittering with a knowing malice. “But not you, James. You rushed right after him, didn’t you? And because you did, you saved everyone. Earth is still a glowing world of blue and green in the black universe not an empty spot in space, because of your actions.”

Spock became even more rigid as Raines spoke disparagingly of his own planned actions after the destruction of Vulcan. But just as Jim was going to jump to Spock’s defense, his First Officer surprised him by speaking, “You are correct, Lord Raines. Jim’s unconventional actions, his reliance on instinct as well as knowledge, led him to take the correct steps that others would not have. That is what he is Captain and should remain so no matter if Starfleet is at war or peace.”

Raines chuckled. “Yes, if the universe were fair. If the universe were logical ... James would never have to worry about his place. But surely you can see, after the tragic loss of your home, that the universe simply doesn’t work that way?”

“And what exactly do you intend to do about this unfairness?” McCoy asked, his voice tinged with sarcasm. When Pike gave him a warning look, McCoy just smiled innocently at him.

“That’s an excellent question, Dr. McCoy. One that I wish to answer with James … in private,” Raines said smoothly. “Come with me?”

Raines offered his hand for Jim to take. Jim stared at the pale palm and long fingers for a long moment. He knew Spock and McCoy were intent on not leaving him alone with Raines, but he had to be alone with Damascus, speaking in private, in order to proceed with their plan to ask Raines to let them investigate Martin’s death.

“All right. It’ll be good to … talk,” Jim said, but he did not take Raines’ hand.

Damascus lowered it to his side, but his almost triumphant smile did not dim.

“Jim, are you certain? Maybe we should go with you,” McCoy said, his voice strained.

“I’m sure,” Jim said, putting the force of his personality behind the words.

Spock, too, was looking at him intently and Jim hoped the Vulcan really could read his mind as he thought furiously about their plan and why he had to be left alone. Spock gave an almost imperceptible nod before he said to McCoy, “I am sure the Captain can handle this, Doctor.”

McCoy’s mouth opened and closed, but he said nothing.

“C’mon, Dr. McCoy, let’s get a drink and let Jim and Raines talk,” Pike said suddenly, looping his arm through the doctor’s and leading him away.

For the first time, Sarek then spoke to Spock. “We have much to discuss as well, my son. I have someone whom you must meet.”

With one last look at Jim, Spock moved towards his father. The loss of Spock’s touch momentarily made Jim dizzy. He stumbled, but Raines’ strong arms wrapped around his waist and held him steady. Alerted, Spock twisted around to help Jim, but the Captain waved him away. Spock’s mouth became a tight, white line. Jim knew he didn’t want to leave him. A bit of the possessiveness he’d shone earlier was surfacing, but Jim saw Spock fight for control of himself.

Jim gestured with his hand for Spock to go. Even as his heart clenched when Spock slowly turned away and followed after Sarek. Steeling himself, he pulled out of Damascus’ arms and turned to face the older man.

“Don’t look so happy, Damascus!” Jim said, unable to keep the anger back.

Raines lowered his eyes. “Can you blame me for taking pleasure in besting a rival?”

“Spock isn’t your rival,” Jim said, firmly.

Raines’ quicksilver eyes darted up to Jim’s, a slow smile drawing across his lips. “Oh, really? I’m quite an expert in alpha male behavior … as you know, James, and that Vulcan was all but ready to piss on you to mark you as his.”

Jim reared back slightly at the venom in Raines’ voice. He didn’t want Raines thinking of Spock, even noticing the other man, if it could be helped let alone knowing that Spock and Jim were together. So he sidestepped the issue by asking, “Is Spock what you want to talk about? I was under the impression that you had other things to say to me.”

Raines’ eyes flickered down as if actually chastised, but the lilting drawl of his voice said differently. “You are correct. The Vulcan …” Raines waved one hand as if tossing the idea of Spock away from them. “The Vulcan is actually of little concern to me except in how he relates to you. But … before you get angry for my interest … I didn’t actually come here to start a fight with you, James. I want to put the past … in the past. And start over.”

Jim pressed his lips together to stop the words ‘never’ and ‘liar’ and ‘murderer’ and other similar sentiments from flowing out of him in a righteous tirade. When he finally had a hold of himself, he said, “All right. I’m willing to hear what you have to say.”

Raines suddenly grasped Jim’s chin, stroking his cheek gently with his thumb. “Only because I’ve left you little choice since I hold all the cards. But this isn’t the place for us to talk about these things.”

“Where then?” Jim asked, his eyes flaring even as he yanked his head away from Raines’ questing fingers. “I’m not just going anywhere with you.”

“Don’t worry, James. All I’m asking is for you to follow me out into the garden,” Raines said pointing towards the balcony doors. Suddenly Raines gave a slight laugh. His eyes were focused over Jim’s left shoulder. “Well, perhaps my concerns about the Vulcan were … unwarranted. He seems to have enough people interested in him not to try and add one more.”

Jim turned around to see where Raines was looking. It was then he saw Sarek introducing Spock to a lithe, young Vulcan woman and behind her Jim saw the sultry form of Uhura. Jim felt his insides freeze.

“What? They’re just talking and … Uhura … is Spock’s friend,” Jim said, lamely.

Raines chuckled in his ear. Jim jerked his head to the side, realizing that Raines was practically pressed up against him.

“Uhura’s woman’s intuition is working far better than your male one. Look at how disfiguring jealousy is? Her lovely face is twisted into something quite unrecognizable, isn’t it?” Damascus breathed.

“I don’t know what—”

“Come now, James. Don’t play dumb. Surely you know as well as Uhura does what’s going on here?” Raines said, almost playfully. “The Vulcans are a dying species unless they mate … quite furiously. I believe Sarek is attempting to make that happen between Spock and … I believe her name is T’Sai.”

“You put Sarek up to this!” Jim growled, forgetting that he was pretending not to have any interest in Spock.

“Oh, no,” Raines said. “This was all Sarek’s idea. He may have told me about it, but I had no role in it.”

“I don’t believe that!” Jim said, even as his voice dipped. “It doesn’t matter what Sarek wants … Spock will do what he wants to do.”

Raines turned his head so that he was looking into Jim’s eyes. His expression was almost pitying. “Spock’s one goal in his life is to please his father. Illogical as that is. Mating with a Vulcan will accomplish this.”

Jim’s stomach felt like it was falling into his feet, but he pressed on as if he didn’t fear exactly what Raines was saying was true. “You don’t know anything about this. You don’t know Spock.”

“Oh, James,” Raines said, a wistful smile curling the corners of his mouth. “While I do … appreciate … your idealism … don’t allow it to destroy your happiness once again.”

“You don’t know anything about my happiness!” Jim hissed.

Raines leant in close so that Jim was breathing in his exhales. “But I do,” he whispered. “I do know everything that truly makes you happy. And I want to give it to you.”

Jim blinked furiously. He’d almost been mesmerized by Raines’ voice and gaze for a moment. When he could see clearly again, Raines was no longer near him, but was by the balcony doors. Jim swung around to look at Spock one more time. His Vulcan First Officer was speaking cordially, if formally, to T’Sai. She was responding in kind. It looked like a pleasant, if not especially close conversation. But it wasn’t Spock’s expression that caught his eye, but Uhura’s past him that riveted Jim’s attention. She looked stricken, dabbing at a stray tear that leaked out, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. It looked like her heart was breaking. Maybe she knew the signs better than Jim did.

‘Spock said I was the only one for him. This closeness we share … it’s got to mean something!’ Jim told himself, but another part of him whispered, ‘But what is love as compared to tradition, as compared to duty and responsibility? Maybe those things snuff love out.’

Raines’ voice cut through the haze of unhappiness that enveloped him. “Come with me, James.” Raines disappeared from view as he stepped outside.

With one last backwards glance at Spock, Jim then turned and followed slowly after Damascus. He had his own duty to attend to, even performing it felt like a knife running across his throat.