Bourbon, Chapter Five
Feb. 19th, 2011 02:15 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
teaoliChapter Five: Whiskey Lies
A follow-up to The Comes Spock.
By![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
teaoli
Summary:They had a thing going on. Until they didn't. Forced to work together in order to unravel the mystery of twins they both wish to protect, they must accept there's still something between them, in spite of all their past hurts.
( Bourbon & Amaretto )
( Dark Amber Burn )
( Fiery Flush )
( Sweet Escape, Bitter Almond )
( Hazy Hopes )
His office was at the far end of the lab. At the time they’d been divvying up spaces, taking the smallest of the five rooms radiating off the back half of the central work area seemed to make sense. The two largest of them — on either side of Bones’s tiny cubicle — had been converted into a consulting spaces they’d hoped they’d never need. Let J.G. have bigger place, Bones had figured, closer to the door, and more accommodating to visitors. The Vulcan-trained doctor was better equipped to handle any Vulcan visitors that might nose their way in.
But now that meant there was huge empty room between him and Upenda, when only a wall separated her from M’Benga. Not that that matter, Bones told himself. J.G. wasn’t stupid enough to risk his balls just for a chance to make eyes at a woman. No, Jabilo Geoffrey M’Benga knew guy code like the back of his hand and cold be trusted to stick to it if it cost him his last breath. So, that wasn’t the problem.
The two old Vulcans and the mysterious human woman holed up in Pen’s office right now were.
This was the third time the trio had visited her in the past three days. It didn’t ease his mind at all knowing that the day before the first visit the two pointy-eared pixies had spent about an hour and a half in there without Astra Boipuso in tow.
The worst thing was, Leonard didn’t know what was going on, and Pen wasn’t talking.
“I’ll let you know if it turns out to be relevant,” she’d promised. Right before she closed her door in his face.
He and J.G. regularly swept the rooms for listening devices — anytime they were all away from the lab, they did before they went back to work. No matter what they said about that honestly shit, Bones wouldn’t put it past the Vulcans to simply not say they were spying. But Pen probably wasn’t that vigilant. She just wasn’t that suspicious. Besides, he and his African colleague had been checking for her.
The tiny component in his hand felt like it weighed a ton. Installing it in her office would be wrong, he told himself. And he’d have to make sure Jabilo never discovered it. And it was unnecessary, damn it! Pen wasn’t the enemy.
But she wouldn’t tell him what was going on. That rankled. Because if something she knew, or some lead she was investigating could solve the mystery of those two pretty babies and get them off this hell the Vulcans now called home…
The door chime saved from completing the thought.
“Come in!” he called, hastily stuffing the little machine in his trouser pocket.
Spock the younger walked in, shoulders loose, hands behind his back. Bones wondered what the kid had to be so relaxed about, but at the same time tried to rummage up a similar sense of ease.
“Shouldn’t you be somewhere changing diapers or rubbing a pretty lady’s back?” he snapped by way of a greeting.
That damnable eyebrow rose again as Spock swung his arms forward and seated himself in the chair in front of the desk.
“My children and bond-mate are resting,” he said placidly. “It seemed like an opportune time to visit you, and to remind you of your promise to Mister Sulu.”
Leonard groaned inwardly at the reminder. Of all the times for the hobgoblin to wanna talk about sewing quilts! Then he noticed that one of the hands resting on the Vulcan’s lap was closed into a loose fist. He nodded towards it.
“Whatcha got there?”
“Patterns,” said Spock, opening the hand to reveal a data strip. “Designed by Val Vancampen, derived from the coverings for the gifts Nyota and I have received for Seren and Saoirse.”
Len raised a brow of his own. The Terran textile artist was famous for good reason.
“I heard you knew her,” he muttered, reaching for the proffered strip. “You expect me to make a Vancampen design?”
“As does Auntie Val,” was the unexpected reply. “She had assured me that based on the work you did Nyota’s wedding dress she deems you more than capable.”
Thoughts of spying on beautiful, brilliant African women took a backseat as Bones called up the patterns on his computer. It was a relief not to have to decide just yet whether or not to make what could end being one of the worst mistakes in life.
Nyota gazed down at her sleeping daughters, still in awe of the tiny new people after three weeks. That she and Spock, together, had created these two beautiful beings, before they’d even known it was possible… a swell of emotion — joy, mingled with devotion, love, a compulsion to protect — prevented her from finishing the thought. She glanced up to find her mate staring at her and their children.
He came to her, clasping her beckoning hand in his, and they both looked down at the cradles gently rocking on the stone balcony floor. Love and belonging flowed through the link in each direction. Together, they basked in the strengthening of their familial bond.
A sound — faint footsteps — from their bedroom caught her attention a millisecond before Spock noticed and turned his attention to the doorway, as well.
Framed in shadow, the light just touching her somber face, Upenda stood waiting, watching.
“Dada,” she called softly, her grave voice giving Nyota permission — no, beseeching her — to Listen, “there is something I need to tell you.”
Nyota’s eyes slid from her sister up to her husband’s impassive face, uncertain. Fear lanced through her, and only with Spock’s assistance was she able to keep it from polluting the peace emanating from Seren Adia and Saoirse Ta’an.
“You should hear this, as well, kaka,” Upenda told him, seemingly unaware of her sister’s turmoil, though Nyota suspected that wasn’t the case. Penda stepped away from the threshold, out into the bright T’Khasian Vokaya sun. “You also should learn what has been kept secret. You both must know what Uhuras truly are.”
She flicked a glance at her nieces then stared at nothing with unfocused eyes, head cocked in a way that told Nyota she was Listening to the babies. Apparently satisfied that they had experienced none of their mother’s distress, Upenda nodded to herself. Clear eyes returned to her sister and brother-in-law.
“Sit,” she said, indicating the table and chairs placed a short distance away from the cradles. “I’ll tell you what I know. It’s less than I should be able to, but— but we’ll rectify that another time.” She shook her head. “Sit,” she repeated.
While Spock quickly removed the brightly-colored packages covering the table and placed them on the chaise longue next to their daughters’ cradles, Nyota took a seat and motioned for Penda to join her. She was a afraid that if she spoke, her voice would break. She’d never seen her older sister tremble so.
Upenda remained silent until Spock rejoined them. Her voice shook as much as her body when she began to talk.
“I… I s-still don’t know… ev-everything,” she began something like, but not like, fear lacing every word. Nyota was surprised and gratified to see Spock reach out to her dada and cover her hand with his. She felt the comfort that seeped from him into Penda, and her own fear eased.
“I don’t know the whole story,” Upenda started over, her voice steadier now, “but I will share what I do know.”
Nyota Listened in silence to every word as the tale unfolded and her sense of self was irrevocably altered. At some point, her husband’s free hand had found hers, and although she couldn’t remember how it happened, she’d begun to hold and stroke Upenda’s other fingers.
The telling didn’t take long, although later Nyota would feel that it had lasted an eternity. Upenda’s words were direct, concise, her explanations scientific, academic, devoid of the emotion she had so recently displayed, even as she revealed secrets that others would call treason.
Until the story diverged into another universe, where what was secret here and had also been in the elder Spock’s time, was well known and even celebrated.
“Of course, they weren’t chi’Thaai Veothai there,” Upenda said. “They were… they were warriors, still, though also parted from Rihannsu,” She choked in a rugged breath “and each side valued them for their strength and ferocity. Each side curried their favor.
“I don’t know if the Uhuras who joined with them were what we would call good, but they disliked all of those in power and joined with these independent Romulans because they knew it would enable them to seek the changes they desired. I have no idea why the Romulans agreed.
“In the end, though, it made Uhura a influential name within this empire. It meant… she had freedoms denied other women. It meant that even after she fell in love with a Vulcan, her actions were ignored — until they couldn’t be. And they set out to destroy her, him and the sister who helped them.
“They failed in the first instance, but were success in the rest.”
The three of them sat like that, helping one another through the revelation of knowledge that was at times painful. Still, by the time the elder Uhura finished her recounting, both women had tears streaming down their faces.
For some time, neither said anything, and he took their hands again while they silently cried.
“The Uhuras will never be my enemies,” he pronounced, his voice quietly resolute.
Both Upenda and Nyota tried to pull away, but he held fast.
“Before Vulcan, before Starfleet, I must always choose my family,” he told them. “Spock and Astra must make their own decisions in this, but you and yours are my chosen family, and therefore my first priority.”
_____
She couldn’t look at him. Every time her eyes found his, a fresh crop of tears fell. That she could sense no accusation from him added to her illogical guilt.
“I’m sorry, k’diwa,” she whispered. “I never knew any of this.”
“You are not my enemy, ashayam,” he reminded her. “And neither were your ancestors enemies of my people. The chi’Thaai Veothai enemies of my father’s forebears. They sought a peace similar to that which Vulcans achieved and were banished from their homeworld for it. How could there ever be enmity between us for that?”
Spock wrapped his arms around his bond-mate’s waist and drew her back to him.
“If Upenda’s assessment is correct,” he said, “your family’s history has little bearing on their state.”
Nyota turned in his arms, pressing her face into his heat. She scrubbed her eyes against the soft fabric encasing hard muscle until the were dry before lifting her chin and meeting his concerned gaze.
“But she can’t be right. If everything worked the way it was supposed to work, the girls would be almost human.” She knew her mournful tone was out of keeping with the topic, but didn’t attempt to modulate her voice. She’d learned enough today to have reason to grieve. “Even if she is right about the girls, she’s also right about the secrets. If what my family does is able to help Vulcans, we’ll need to reveal ourselves. There has to be a way we can do that without ending up like Astra and….”
Although she let her voice trail off, she could tell from the way his arms tightened around her that Spock understood what her full sentence could have been.
Astra and her Spock or Astra and her Upenda. She wasn’t sure herself, which she would have said. She knew only that she had feared to say Astra and her baby.
It didn’t take a genius to come up with six dozen reasons why Miz Boipuso was in there again. Everyone with half a working brain and decent eyesight must have arrived at pretty much the same conclusion he’d come to after seeing the singer at the wedding. What might slip past the casual observer while Astra was on her own became glaring obvious when the woman stood next to M’Umbha Uhura, or any of that woman’s daughters. Hell, even standing next to some random Wakufunzi cousin, she looked suspiciously in place!
Bones’s had hovered over the activation control, all the while telling himself it was wrong to eavesdrop. That if he couldn’t bring himself to trust Pen, he risked ruining something more than he was willing to think about right now. He pressed the button.
“Think about the risk to Saoirse and Seren if we don’t tell him.” Pen’s voice was strained, but not angry or scared.
“This has nothing to do with his work for them!” He couldn’t say the same for Astra’s. “We’re talking about the safety of your entire family.”
“Astra.” Pen had turned soothing, placating. “The family knows what we’re dealing with, and will make a decision, as a family, about whether or not to tell the universe the truth. I’m just suggesting I tell Len, first. That I tell him no matter what.”
“It’s too dangerous right now. You can’t know that—”
“I know that I can trust him. I know that Spock and Ennie trust him.”
“Dada, please.” There was a minute pause, and Astra’s voice carried a renewed desperation when she continued. Please ask yourself if that’s true. Ask yourself if you believe that because he has proven himself worthy of your trust” Bones felt his stomach turn, knowing what the answer would be if either knew what he was up to right now. “or if it’s because you’re still in love with him.”
The silence in the other room was heavy enough to make him stop breathing as he waited for her to reply. His heart pounded audibly in his chest as he imagined her asking herself the question, and then answering Miz Boipuso.
“I trust him because he deserves to be trusted,” he heard her say at last, and his gut clenched with guilt again. His head swam like he was halfway through an epic bender. “However, I will wait before I say anything. I… I know he was different in your world, dada. But here… here he’s on our side. He won’t hurt you, or any of us. He’s different here.”
Bones stabbed at the button, ending his illicit listening. Pen had sounded so damned confident! He felt an inexplicable anger rising at Pen’s unwavering belief in him.
Switching his screen to Val Vancampen’s patterns, he reached for the pieces of fabric Spock had been delivering on a daily basis. Now wasn’t really a good time for thinking.
__________
He had a whole corner of one quilt done when Upenda’s head ducked around his office door two hours later.
“Have dinner with me tonight,” she said, smiling. “There’s something we need to talk about.”
The way she was eyeing him made it seem like maybe she planned on making McCoy the main course. Bones was hard-pressed not offer himself on a platter. “Hard” being the operative word.
“Ready to let the cat out of the bag, huh?” he asked, sounding far more surly than he’d intended. Pen’s blank look almost made him ashamed of his tone. Almost. What the hell? Might as well go on the way he’d started. “Finally tired of sneaking around behind my back?”
“Len, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said, still looking slightly confused. Though the half-smile was gorgeous, it was about as real a clown’s. “I just want to spend some time with you — just you — outside this lab. And there’s something I want to run by you, but I haven’t been ‘sneaking around.’ There were some things I needed to look into before we could talk about it.”
“There’s just one problem with that theory, Doctor Uhura.” Leonard frowned fiercely at the woman standing before him. “At first, we looked at the twins’ DNA, saw that it was Vulcanoid, and stopped there. Seemed like you were right. Hell! It seemed like Spock and I were right. But that was just sloppy science and I don’t like sloppy in my work. So, I went back and looked again. Do you know what I saw, Doctor?” The frown was replaced with a harsh grimace masquerading a smile. It flickered on his face for the briefest of moments, something like hope flashed in his eyes before he tucked it away.
“No, Len,” Upenda said, her voice as tight as his lips. “Why don’t you tell me.”
_____
He folded his arms over his chest and swung away from her, but not before she saw light of trust and optimism completely bleed from his eyes.
“A good chunk of their genes don’t match anything in Spock’s genome.” His voice was quiet, too blank to be called “soft.” Not even angry or fearful or anything of the things she imagined might color his revelation. “I know Ny wouldn’t cheat on him, Pen. I know that. And besides, half their genes were obviously his.”
When he turned back she saw the anger and betrayal that had been missing from his inflection. A painful stab cut into her belly at the sight.
“So, Doctor Uhura,” he began, ice coating each carefully enunciated word, “perhaps you can tell me how, exactly, this is so. Maybe you can tell me whatever this ‘secret’ you, Ambassador Spock, Ambassador Sarek and Astra Fucking Boipuso are so keen on keeping from me is!”
Upenda swallowed, willing her fury to abate enough to keep her from reacting to it. The last thing she needed was to lash back at him right now. He’d only see that as confirmation of what ever he imagined she up to.
“It has nothing to do with you, Len,” she told him as evenly as she could manage, but she didn’t trying to tell herself that her eyes weren’t blazing. Nobody got to her the way Leonard Horatio McCoy could. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about Joanna. She sent a letter, asking to live with me.”
A/N: Val Vancampen was first introduced in Baby Gifts, and she is the creation (and fic-world embodiment) of Starquilter57. Thanks for letting me use her again, SQ! The baby quilts Bones is making was also first mentioned in that collection. The chi'Thaai Veothai are taken from Entanglement and from 1C13:11.
Chapter Six
A follow-up to The Comes Spock.
By
teaoliSummary:They had a thing going on. Until they didn't. Forced to work together in order to unravel the mystery of twins they both wish to protect, they must accept there's still something between them, in spite of all their past hurts.
( Bourbon & Amaretto )
( Dark Amber Burn )
( Fiery Flush )
( Sweet Escape, Bitter Almond )
( Hazy Hopes )
His office was at the far end of the lab. At the time they’d been divvying up spaces, taking the smallest of the five rooms radiating off the back half of the central work area seemed to make sense. The two largest of them — on either side of Bones’s tiny cubicle — had been converted into a consulting spaces they’d hoped they’d never need. Let J.G. have bigger place, Bones had figured, closer to the door, and more accommodating to visitors. The Vulcan-trained doctor was better equipped to handle any Vulcan visitors that might nose their way in.
But now that meant there was huge empty room between him and Upenda, when only a wall separated her from M’Benga. Not that that matter, Bones told himself. J.G. wasn’t stupid enough to risk his balls just for a chance to make eyes at a woman. No, Jabilo Geoffrey M’Benga knew guy code like the back of his hand and cold be trusted to stick to it if it cost him his last breath. So, that wasn’t the problem.
The two old Vulcans and the mysterious human woman holed up in Pen’s office right now were.
This was the third time the trio had visited her in the past three days. It didn’t ease his mind at all knowing that the day before the first visit the two pointy-eared pixies had spent about an hour and a half in there without Astra Boipuso in tow.
The worst thing was, Leonard didn’t know what was going on, and Pen wasn’t talking.
“I’ll let you know if it turns out to be relevant,” she’d promised. Right before she closed her door in his face.
He and J.G. regularly swept the rooms for listening devices — anytime they were all away from the lab, they did before they went back to work. No matter what they said about that honestly shit, Bones wouldn’t put it past the Vulcans to simply not say they were spying. But Pen probably wasn’t that vigilant. She just wasn’t that suspicious. Besides, he and his African colleague had been checking for her.
The tiny component in his hand felt like it weighed a ton. Installing it in her office would be wrong, he told himself. And he’d have to make sure Jabilo never discovered it. And it was unnecessary, damn it! Pen wasn’t the enemy.
But she wouldn’t tell him what was going on. That rankled. Because if something she knew, or some lead she was investigating could solve the mystery of those two pretty babies and get them off this hell the Vulcans now called home…
The door chime saved from completing the thought.
“Come in!” he called, hastily stuffing the little machine in his trouser pocket.
Spock the younger walked in, shoulders loose, hands behind his back. Bones wondered what the kid had to be so relaxed about, but at the same time tried to rummage up a similar sense of ease.
“Shouldn’t you be somewhere changing diapers or rubbing a pretty lady’s back?” he snapped by way of a greeting.
That damnable eyebrow rose again as Spock swung his arms forward and seated himself in the chair in front of the desk.
“My children and bond-mate are resting,” he said placidly. “It seemed like an opportune time to visit you, and to remind you of your promise to Mister Sulu.”
Leonard groaned inwardly at the reminder. Of all the times for the hobgoblin to wanna talk about sewing quilts! Then he noticed that one of the hands resting on the Vulcan’s lap was closed into a loose fist. He nodded towards it.
“Whatcha got there?”
“Patterns,” said Spock, opening the hand to reveal a data strip. “Designed by Val Vancampen, derived from the coverings for the gifts Nyota and I have received for Seren and Saoirse.”
Len raised a brow of his own. The Terran textile artist was famous for good reason.
“I heard you knew her,” he muttered, reaching for the proffered strip. “You expect me to make a Vancampen design?”
“As does Auntie Val,” was the unexpected reply. “She had assured me that based on the work you did Nyota’s wedding dress she deems you more than capable.”
Thoughts of spying on beautiful, brilliant African women took a backseat as Bones called up the patterns on his computer. It was a relief not to have to decide just yet whether or not to make what could end being one of the worst mistakes in life.
Nyota gazed down at her sleeping daughters, still in awe of the tiny new people after three weeks. That she and Spock, together, had created these two beautiful beings, before they’d even known it was possible… a swell of emotion — joy, mingled with devotion, love, a compulsion to protect — prevented her from finishing the thought. She glanced up to find her mate staring at her and their children.
He came to her, clasping her beckoning hand in his, and they both looked down at the cradles gently rocking on the stone balcony floor. Love and belonging flowed through the link in each direction. Together, they basked in the strengthening of their familial bond.
A sound — faint footsteps — from their bedroom caught her attention a millisecond before Spock noticed and turned his attention to the doorway, as well.
Framed in shadow, the light just touching her somber face, Upenda stood waiting, watching.
“Dada,” she called softly, her grave voice giving Nyota permission — no, beseeching her — to Listen, “there is something I need to tell you.”
Nyota’s eyes slid from her sister up to her husband’s impassive face, uncertain. Fear lanced through her, and only with Spock’s assistance was she able to keep it from polluting the peace emanating from Seren Adia and Saoirse Ta’an.
“You should hear this, as well, kaka,” Upenda told him, seemingly unaware of her sister’s turmoil, though Nyota suspected that wasn’t the case. Penda stepped away from the threshold, out into the bright T’Khasian Vokaya sun. “You also should learn what has been kept secret. You both must know what Uhuras truly are.”
She flicked a glance at her nieces then stared at nothing with unfocused eyes, head cocked in a way that told Nyota she was Listening to the babies. Apparently satisfied that they had experienced none of their mother’s distress, Upenda nodded to herself. Clear eyes returned to her sister and brother-in-law.
“Sit,” she said, indicating the table and chairs placed a short distance away from the cradles. “I’ll tell you what I know. It’s less than I should be able to, but— but we’ll rectify that another time.” She shook her head. “Sit,” she repeated.
While Spock quickly removed the brightly-colored packages covering the table and placed them on the chaise longue next to their daughters’ cradles, Nyota took a seat and motioned for Penda to join her. She was a afraid that if she spoke, her voice would break. She’d never seen her older sister tremble so.
Upenda remained silent until Spock rejoined them. Her voice shook as much as her body when she began to talk.
“I… I s-still don’t know… ev-everything,” she began something like, but not like, fear lacing every word. Nyota was surprised and gratified to see Spock reach out to her dada and cover her hand with his. She felt the comfort that seeped from him into Penda, and her own fear eased.
“I don’t know the whole story,” Upenda started over, her voice steadier now, “but I will share what I do know.”
Nyota Listened in silence to every word as the tale unfolded and her sense of self was irrevocably altered. At some point, her husband’s free hand had found hers, and although she couldn’t remember how it happened, she’d begun to hold and stroke Upenda’s other fingers.
The telling didn’t take long, although later Nyota would feel that it had lasted an eternity. Upenda’s words were direct, concise, her explanations scientific, academic, devoid of the emotion she had so recently displayed, even as she revealed secrets that others would call treason.
Until the story diverged into another universe, where what was secret here and had also been in the elder Spock’s time, was well known and even celebrated.
“Of course, they weren’t chi’Thaai Veothai there,” Upenda said. “They were… they were warriors, still, though also parted from Rihannsu,” She choked in a rugged breath “and each side valued them for their strength and ferocity. Each side curried their favor.
“I don’t know if the Uhuras who joined with them were what we would call good, but they disliked all of those in power and joined with these independent Romulans because they knew it would enable them to seek the changes they desired. I have no idea why the Romulans agreed.
“In the end, though, it made Uhura a influential name within this empire. It meant… she had freedoms denied other women. It meant that even after she fell in love with a Vulcan, her actions were ignored — until they couldn’t be. And they set out to destroy her, him and the sister who helped them.
“They failed in the first instance, but were success in the rest.”
The three of them sat like that, helping one another through the revelation of knowledge that was at times painful. Still, by the time the elder Uhura finished her recounting, both women had tears streaming down their faces.
For some time, neither said anything, and he took their hands again while they silently cried.
“The Uhuras will never be my enemies,” he pronounced, his voice quietly resolute.
Both Upenda and Nyota tried to pull away, but he held fast.
“Before Vulcan, before Starfleet, I must always choose my family,” he told them. “Spock and Astra must make their own decisions in this, but you and yours are my chosen family, and therefore my first priority.”
She couldn’t look at him. Every time her eyes found his, a fresh crop of tears fell. That she could sense no accusation from him added to her illogical guilt.
“I’m sorry, k’diwa,” she whispered. “I never knew any of this.”
“You are not my enemy, ashayam,” he reminded her. “And neither were your ancestors enemies of my people. The chi’Thaai Veothai enemies of my father’s forebears. They sought a peace similar to that which Vulcans achieved and were banished from their homeworld for it. How could there ever be enmity between us for that?”
Spock wrapped his arms around his bond-mate’s waist and drew her back to him.
“If Upenda’s assessment is correct,” he said, “your family’s history has little bearing on their state.”
Nyota turned in his arms, pressing her face into his heat. She scrubbed her eyes against the soft fabric encasing hard muscle until the were dry before lifting her chin and meeting his concerned gaze.
“But she can’t be right. If everything worked the way it was supposed to work, the girls would be almost human.” She knew her mournful tone was out of keeping with the topic, but didn’t attempt to modulate her voice. She’d learned enough today to have reason to grieve. “Even if she is right about the girls, she’s also right about the secrets. If what my family does is able to help Vulcans, we’ll need to reveal ourselves. There has to be a way we can do that without ending up like Astra and….”
Although she let her voice trail off, she could tell from the way his arms tightened around her that Spock understood what her full sentence could have been.
Astra and her Spock or Astra and her Upenda. She wasn’t sure herself, which she would have said. She knew only that she had feared to say Astra and her baby.
It didn’t take a genius to come up with six dozen reasons why Miz Boipuso was in there again. Everyone with half a working brain and decent eyesight must have arrived at pretty much the same conclusion he’d come to after seeing the singer at the wedding. What might slip past the casual observer while Astra was on her own became glaring obvious when the woman stood next to M’Umbha Uhura, or any of that woman’s daughters. Hell, even standing next to some random Wakufunzi cousin, she looked suspiciously in place!
Bones’s had hovered over the activation control, all the while telling himself it was wrong to eavesdrop. That if he couldn’t bring himself to trust Pen, he risked ruining something more than he was willing to think about right now. He pressed the button.
“Think about the risk to Saoirse and Seren if we don’t tell him.” Pen’s voice was strained, but not angry or scared.
“This has nothing to do with his work for them!” He couldn’t say the same for Astra’s. “We’re talking about the safety of your entire family.”
“Astra.” Pen had turned soothing, placating. “The family knows what we’re dealing with, and will make a decision, as a family, about whether or not to tell the universe the truth. I’m just suggesting I tell Len, first. That I tell him no matter what.”
“It’s too dangerous right now. You can’t know that—”
“I know that I can trust him. I know that Spock and Ennie trust him.”
“Dada, please.” There was a minute pause, and Astra’s voice carried a renewed desperation when she continued. Please ask yourself if that’s true. Ask yourself if you believe that because he has proven himself worthy of your trust” Bones felt his stomach turn, knowing what the answer would be if either knew what he was up to right now. “or if it’s because you’re still in love with him.”
The silence in the other room was heavy enough to make him stop breathing as he waited for her to reply. His heart pounded audibly in his chest as he imagined her asking herself the question, and then answering Miz Boipuso.
“I trust him because he deserves to be trusted,” he heard her say at last, and his gut clenched with guilt again. His head swam like he was halfway through an epic bender. “However, I will wait before I say anything. I… I know he was different in your world, dada. But here… here he’s on our side. He won’t hurt you, or any of us. He’s different here.”
Bones stabbed at the button, ending his illicit listening. Pen had sounded so damned confident! He felt an inexplicable anger rising at Pen’s unwavering belief in him.
Switching his screen to Val Vancampen’s patterns, he reached for the pieces of fabric Spock had been delivering on a daily basis. Now wasn’t really a good time for thinking.
He had a whole corner of one quilt done when Upenda’s head ducked around his office door two hours later.
“Have dinner with me tonight,” she said, smiling. “There’s something we need to talk about.”
The way she was eyeing him made it seem like maybe she planned on making McCoy the main course. Bones was hard-pressed not offer himself on a platter. “Hard” being the operative word.
“Ready to let the cat out of the bag, huh?” he asked, sounding far more surly than he’d intended. Pen’s blank look almost made him ashamed of his tone. Almost. What the hell? Might as well go on the way he’d started. “Finally tired of sneaking around behind my back?”
“Len, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said, still looking slightly confused. Though the half-smile was gorgeous, it was about as real a clown’s. “I just want to spend some time with you — just you — outside this lab. And there’s something I want to run by you, but I haven’t been ‘sneaking around.’ There were some things I needed to look into before we could talk about it.”
“There’s just one problem with that theory, Doctor Uhura.” Leonard frowned fiercely at the woman standing before him. “At first, we looked at the twins’ DNA, saw that it was Vulcanoid, and stopped there. Seemed like you were right. Hell! It seemed like Spock and I were right. But that was just sloppy science and I don’t like sloppy in my work. So, I went back and looked again. Do you know what I saw, Doctor?” The frown was replaced with a harsh grimace masquerading a smile. It flickered on his face for the briefest of moments, something like hope flashed in his eyes before he tucked it away.
“No, Len,” Upenda said, her voice as tight as his lips. “Why don’t you tell me.”
He folded his arms over his chest and swung away from her, but not before she saw light of trust and optimism completely bleed from his eyes.
“A good chunk of their genes don’t match anything in Spock’s genome.” His voice was quiet, too blank to be called “soft.” Not even angry or fearful or anything of the things she imagined might color his revelation. “I know Ny wouldn’t cheat on him, Pen. I know that. And besides, half their genes were obviously his.”
When he turned back she saw the anger and betrayal that had been missing from his inflection. A painful stab cut into her belly at the sight.
“So, Doctor Uhura,” he began, ice coating each carefully enunciated word, “perhaps you can tell me how, exactly, this is so. Maybe you can tell me whatever this ‘secret’ you, Ambassador Spock, Ambassador Sarek and Astra Fucking Boipuso are so keen on keeping from me is!”
Upenda swallowed, willing her fury to abate enough to keep her from reacting to it. The last thing she needed was to lash back at him right now. He’d only see that as confirmation of what ever he imagined she up to.
“It has nothing to do with you, Len,” she told him as evenly as she could manage, but she didn’t trying to tell herself that her eyes weren’t blazing. Nobody got to her the way Leonard Horatio McCoy could. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about Joanna. She sent a letter, asking to live with me.”
A/N: Val Vancampen was first introduced in Baby Gifts, and she is the creation (and fic-world embodiment) of Starquilter57. Thanks for letting me use her again, SQ! The baby quilts Bones is making was also first mentioned in that collection. The chi'Thaai Veothai are taken from Entanglement and from 1C13:11.
Chapter Six
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Date: 2011-02-22 03:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-22 06:27 pm (UTC)