TimeSkip: Part the Seventh

Of course, Bella had remembered Dr. McCoy from Starfleet, and he had merely grumbled about “Not Vulcans” before patching her up.

“Do you need birth control?” he asked her plainly, his voice gruff.  His Terran eyes looked over her.  “You don’t seem to have much on you.”

Bella blinked at him, her brain utterly confused.  Thinking of condoms and how she found a stash in Mike’s car on the way to La Push, she asked, tentatively, “Don’t the boys usually deal with that?”  Her gaze flicked to Sarek who was standing, unemotional but watchful.

McCoy sighed.  “What planet are you from, Lady Isabella?”

“Why?” she asked, suddenly defensive.  “I took ‘health’ in school.  The only way to properly prevent STDs is to use condoms—and guys usually get those.  I think.   Maybe.”  Then again, her mother was on the pill from what she could tell, but she’d gained ten pounds and was generally unhappy about it.

“STDs,” Sarek asked carefully, no hint of inflection in his voice.

She nodded, wondering why they were all confused.  “Sexually Transmitted Diseases.  Just because I’m not Terran doesn’t mean that—”

Rolling his eyes, McCoy picked up what she now knew was a hypospray and gently placed it on her neck, pressing a button.  A swish of air permeated her skin and she felt a little lightheaded for a moment, but then it was all over.  “You’re good for eight months,” McCoy informed her.  “Just wait ten minutes before—doing anything—but your husband is on the bridge so I think you’re safe.”

“I only have to wait ten minutes?” she questioned in shock.  “With the pill, they recommend waiting at least a week!”

Sarek nodded.  “In the United Federation of Planets, we no longer employ pills as a way to dispense medication.”

“Not even Tylenol?” she asked.

She received only confused glances in return.

Tentatively, she reached up to her neck and felt only a slight coolness there.  “Are there any side effects?  Will I gain ten pounds?  Mood swings?  Anything?”

McCoy shifted a little uncomfortably.  “You won’t menstruate for the full eight months.”

She stared at him in confusion.  “Not at all?”

“Ah,” he responded, a little relieved, “you are more Terran than I thought if you menstruate.”

The world—or ship—seemed to go still.  Bella thought she would blush and feel embarrassed but instead she took a deep breath and felt nothing but rage. 

McCoy wasn’t, however, paying attention but was instead looking at the readings in the hypo he had just used.  “Oh.  Well.  You’re the only married virgin I’ve ever met.”

Sarek’s eyebrow rose slightly, betraying an emotion, and Bella just stared at McCoy. 

“Do you mind?  I don’t know what your little advanced tech shot is telling you, but I am not Terran and I am not Vulcan.  And whatever happened to doctor-patient confidentiality?”

“You allowed the Vulcan Ambassador to be present.  You waived it.”  He was looking at the hypospray as if it held the answers to the entire galaxy.  “I thought he was your father-in-law.”

She took a deep breath.  “This is worse than Mom marrying Phil who was only five years older than me.”  Her groan was hushed as she ran a hand through her hair. 

“Does that not happen on your planet?” Sarek inquired.

“Er—” she looked at him.  “When it does happen, it’s usually the other way around.  Older man.  Younger woman.  Usually the man is rich or is famous or—something.”  Glancing up at McCoy, she demanded more than asked: “We good?”

“Yep,” he answered distractedly.  “I’ve never seen hormone levels this low in a Terran.”

Not bothering to respond, she hopped off the biobed, glad that she had full use of her arm without the need of a cast.  Walking over to Sarek, she just stood as they took each other in.  “Now what?”

“The Vulcan survivors are congregating in the mess hall, although we have all been assigned quarters.”

She looked down at her hand, her thumb smoothing over her wedding ring, and she looked up at him.  “Does that mean we’re joining them, or I’m hiding?”

He took her in for a long moment and then escorted out of sickbay, fortunately, and away from Dr. McCoy’s prying eyes.  “I believe you are ‘friends’ with the Terran Jim Kirk.”

“Yes,” she responded.  “We hid from a rainstorm together with a few others back on Terra.”

“Indeed.—Would it be emotionally beneficial to see him?”  His strange alien eyes looked down at her and after a moment, she nodded.

A silent ride on the turbolift later, and they were entering what must be some form of ship prison.  There were cells—but they didn’t have bars or glass.  There seemed to be nothing keeping the prisoners in but from what she could tell, Jim wasn’t trying to escape.

She walked over to him and tried to enter the cell, but was held back by some form of forcefield.  It hummed and sparked her, and she jumped back in confusion, feeling her back collide with Sarek.  Looking over her shoulder, she saw him looking at her imperiously, and she was beginning to think that was his default expression. 

“Jim,” she called.  He was facing away, curled into a ball, but he looked up at his name.

“Isabella,” he returned, unfolding himself and coming up to her.  “You’ve got to get Spock to turn this ship around.”

She looked at his strange blue eyes, somehow potent, certainly more than human in a way she couldn’t understand.  “Jim—I have no idea what’s happening.  I wouldn’t even be able to decide whether I think that would be a good idea.”

He opened his mouth to speak but then his eyes shifted to the Vulcan behind her.

“My father-in-law,” she told him, “Sarek, son of Skonn.  He looks an awful lot like that Vulcan down on that planet—strangely.”  Turning, she smiled at Sarek, thinking of how strange her life clearly was.  “Who was that, anyway, Jim?”

Jim swallowed nervously.  “I can’t say.”

“You can’t say—or you won’t say?” she tried to clarify.

“Sworn to secrecy,” he told her, strangely crossing his chest as if he were referencing a children’s promise from earth. 

Her eyes narrowed and she took him in.  Then, carefully, she recited, “Cross my heart, hope to die, stick a needle—”

“in my eye,” he finished, confused.  “How do you know that old Terran rhyme?”

“It’s not Terran,” she refuted carefully.  “Unless—unless Spock was right and I’m from a Terran colony that lost its advanced scientific knowledge—”  She bit her lip.  “We were called ‘Terra’ over two thousand years ago.”

Jim blinked.  “You were Terra millennia ago?”

She nodded, thinking.  Glancing over her shoulder, she looked at Sarek and then turned back to Jim.  “Are you called something other than ‘Terrans’?”

“Human,” he returned carefully and her eyes widened.  “Tell me about your planet.”

“Tell me why you attempted to provoke my husband by slandering his feelings for both me and his mother.”  She tried to keep her voice resolute, unfeeling, commanding.  Bella wasn’t entirely certain that she’d succeeded.

He looked down at his hands.  “Well, the other Vulcan told me that—Spock and I were meant to be partners, that it was written in the stars.—And I needed to be given command of this vessel so I could go and save both its actual Captain and Earth before Nero does something stupid.”

“You believed some random Vulcan on an ice planet?”  She scoffed.  “That makes no sense, even for someone who is comfortable hanging out in their underwear.”

“You were in your underwear,” he teased.

“I was wrapped in a blanket to get warm,” she returned.  “How’s your boyfriend, by the way?”

His face suddenly clouded and she sensed that something was horribly wrong.  “Oh,” she murmured.  “I’m sorry.” 

Jim took a deep breath and looked up, his eyes nearly glowing.  “We’re married, actually.”

Sensing something, she decided to sit crosslegged on the floor to get more comfortable.  Jim hesitated for only a moment before mimicking her position.

“It’s hard—keeping a marriage secret,” she shared.  “When I returned back to my home planet—I was no longer ‘Lady Isabella of the House of Surak.’  I was no longer Spock’s wife.  I can’t even legally be married.  I was suddenly alone with my father, and he’s great, don’t get me wrong, but it was so terribly lonely.  I often found myself running back to the house, wanting to tell Spock something about my day, and he just wasn’t even on the planet.”

“You could stay.  We—my husband and I—don’t have that option.”

“Neither do we,” Bella shared sadly.  “Still, I have my wedding ring that I just lie about.  I’ve got everyone convinced I’ve got a boyfriend off in another state that I strangely don’t talk to over the telephone or email” (at this, Jim’s face scrunched up in confusion, but she let it slide) “and I just wait until I have the chance to return here—wherever here is,” she qualified.  “Who was that Vulcan on the planet?”

“You really don’t know?” he asked.

“He seemed familiar, but, no, I have no idea who he is.—why?”

Jim’s eyes flickered up to Sarek, but then refocused on her.  “I need to go back and save Pike, Isabella.  Please.”

“I can’t do anything,” she told him truthfully.  “I’m a civilian.  Civilian, right?”  She looked up at Sarek who nodded his assent.  “Civilian.”

“You owe me—”

She shook her head, but Jim only continued.

“I brought you back to your husband, bring me back to mine.”

“Who?” she asked in confusion, but Jim didn’t answer her.  Perhaps it was better that she didn’t know. 

Instead, he leaned back, resting on his hands, a pleased look on his face.  “You remember that cadet who had a crush on Spock?”

Wondering why he brought it up, she told him: “She was female.  You said you had a husband.”

“Slightly different subject,” he informed her slowly.  “I like to piss her off.  I’ve been doing it since we first met.”

“Right,” she answered, slightly confused.  “I’m assuming she’s on Terra or some other starship.”

“She’s on this one.”

Her eyebrows rose. 

“Gaila, her roommate, is a good friend of mine.  You remember.”  (How could she forget the green-skinned girl with red curls?). “She told me how Nyota was sending Spock rum filled chocolates, love letters, all anonymous—and she’s on the bridge with him right now.”

A little confused at why Jim was telling her this, though it was supposedly good to know, it was Sarek who nonetheless responded.  “Is it your intention, Mr. Kirk, to illicit jealousy from the daughter-of-my-clan?”

Bella was certainly confused, but she felt only warmth and love and a steadfastness of purpose through the bond.  “Vulcans are virtually incapable of—what you’re suggesting,” she murmured.  “Their bonded mate would know.”

“What, are you psychic?” Jim asked.

“Mildly,” she returned, standing up and slipping her coat from her shoulders, feeling a little warm.  “If you tell me the name of your husband, I’ll see if I can contact him.  I’m not sure he’d be happy you’re in the brig for mutiny.”

“He wouldn’t blame me,” Jim returned calmly, his blue eyes startling still in their intensity.  “We Terrans will do anything for love.”

Her confusion rising at the familiar line, she stated, “We had a poet on our planet.  He wrote the greatest love story in our language—which you seem to call Standard.”

Jim looked at her in confusion.  “Who?”

“William Shakespeare.”

No recognition showed in his eyes.  “Never heard of him.  What a name, though.”

It seemed, then, that their two peoples had diverged at some point, Bella realized.  Shakespeare lived over five hundred years earlier, and yet Jim had no knowledge of him.  She’d have to check a database. 

Nodding, she turned to Sarek and walked out. 

As soon as they had entered the empty corridor, she leaned against the wall and closed her eyes.  She felt Sarek beside her, and they stood in silence for several long moments.

“William Shakespeare,” Sarek stated, his voice uninterested.  “He is an antiquated Terran playwright and poet.  Did you refer, perhaps, to Romeo and Juliet?”

Her eyes fluttered open.  “Oh god,” she breathed in shock.  “What’s happening?”

“I know not.  It is a conundrum.  Where is your planet?”

Trying not to cry, she admitted, “I don’t know.”

He regarded her for a long moment.  “You remind me greatly of my late wife.”

Not certain what to make of that, she bit her lip in confusion.  “Is that a good thing?”

“Affirmative,” he responded.  “You are certainly more emotive, and I am gratified that you are not psi-null unlike Terrans.  My son deserves a full bond.”

The two had begun to walk down the hall and she nodded absent-mindedly. 

“Would you care to retire in my quarters?” Sarek asked solicitously.  “I am uncertain where my son’s are or if we could access them.”

“I know the code,” she told him.  “If it was the same as last time.”

“Indeed,” he concurred.  “However, it would not be logical to disturb him while he is still on the bridge.  You could rest and perhaps access the ship’s computers, if you are interested in obtaining any information.”

“Okay,” she agreed, and they moved toward another turbolift and ended in sparse quarters that were simply a double bed, a set of chairs at a table, and a screen in the wall.  Immediately, she made for the bed, tossing her coat down and taking off her shoes, wiggling her toes in her wet socks before removing them as well.

Sarek regarded her for several long moments before going to what appeared to be a closet.  He searched it for a little over a minute before he returned with thick socks and handed them to her. 

She smiled.  “Thanks.  That—planet—did a number on my clothes.”

“They are singular,” he returned, sitting down at the table which, she now realized, held some strange chess board.

“They are from my planet,” she told him, coming up to him and picking up what appeared to be a queen.  “My grandfather played a similar game, but he was too old to teach me.”

“Would you care to learn, daughter?” he asked her, no kindness in his voice, just a question.  She was beginning to learn that Spock’s natural reserve was somehow more in other Vulcans.  Bella would have to ask him about it when they were next alone.

Her brown gaze met his alien one.  “Only if you don’t mind teaching me.”

“I would not have made the offer, if I found the prospect unsatisfactory.”  He picked up what was clearly a pawn and began explaining to her something that seemed an awful lot like chess, only more complicated.

She had lost two games soundly when she finally asked, “Does Spock have any brothers or sisters?”

“He did not speak of us,” Sarek returned, shaking his head when she placed her fingers on the knight in question, silently telling her that that was the wrong move to make.

Uncertain what she should say, she admitted, “Spock met me when he was twelve.”

“I am aware,” Sarek returned.

“And now he’s at least twenty-eight.”

“He is twenty-nine,” he corrected, moving his queen.

The move utterly baffled Bella.  “I was nineteen when we met, or so Spock tells me.  That would make me thirty-six if everything was—logical.”  She sacrificed a rook.

“Then it is not logical,” Sarek determined.

“No,” she returned, sitting back and capturing Sarek’s eyes.  “I have never been to Vulcan, and I met Spock only once before.  We were—telepathically linked—as soon as I appeared on Terra.  I’m only seventeen.  Everything seems to be happening out of order.”  She paused.  “He knew of the extraterrestrials on my planet before I did.  Knew their names.  Knew that Edward Cullen had a strange interest in me when it hadn’t happened yet.”

“Perhaps the gravity surrounding your planet is somehow distorted,” he suggested kindly. 

“I don’t know what that means,” she admitted.

“Time is different, non-congruent.  You are clearly the ideal specimen of your race if, to your knowledge, you are the only one who travels past its borders.  Are all your species capable of telepathic communication as you are?”

“No,” she told him simply.  “No one.—And I’m only capable of it with Spock.”

“I would make a hypothesis, Daughter, that if you and Spock chose for you to have a familial link with other members of our clan, it would be successful.”

She nodded and looked at the board, unseeing.  “Spock mentioned that he was unable to have a link with his mother.  I—we don’t have links with our parents—and I certainly would never want my mom remotely in my mind, but I know it was painful for Spock.”

“Affirmative,” Sarek agreed.  “My eldest son, Sybok, severed our link when he was banished from Vulcan.  I have a foster-daughter, a Terran, Michael Burnham.  She and Spock had—I believe Terrans call it an ‘emotional falling out’—when they were children.  She is serving in Starfleet.”

“Hmm,” she murmured.  “I’m an only child.”

Surprisingly, she managed to capture a castle, and she smiled in glee.  However, Sarek’s queen quickly took her bishop.

“My parents are divorced,” she told him.  “Do you have divorce?”

“On other planets in the Federation,” he informed her.  “Vulcans do not practice it, however.”

“They divorced when I was three months old,” she related.  “I lived with Mom until she married Phil—and then I moved in with my dad.”  She looked at the board and realized that she was definitely losing.  “He’s a police officer.”

“Indeed.  Those who keep the peace are to be commended.”

“Yes,” she agreed, glancing up at Sarek.  “He’s very passionate about it.”

“Do you wish to follow in his footsteps?” he asked, clearly curious.

“Negative,” she teased, although he didn’t seem to realize it.  Or at least he didn’t acknowledge the tease.  Sighing, Bella continued.  “I’m too uncoordinated.  I also don’t like guns.”

Sarek’s brow furrowed, but he didn’t comment at first.  “Then what do you wish to do with your life, Isabella?”

“I want to remain here—with Spock,” she admitted in little more than a whisper.  “I don’t understand the Federation at all.  The idea that I’m on a ship in space is simply—fantastical.”  She stared out the window at the passing stars.  “It’s mind-blowing.”

When she turned back to him, Bella found Sarek looking at her cautiously. 

“I’m going to master this—traveling—I seem to do or steal a ship,” she concluded.  “I know the Cullens aren’t from my planet.  They must have one, even if it crash-landed.  Then I’m going to fly here and stay here.”

“You would leave everything you know, everything you’ve been taught, for love of my son?”

Grinning, she quoted, “Two houses, both alike in dignity.”

Before he was able to respond, the ship vaulted to the side and Bella fell to the floor.  Sarek caught her and cradled her head before it could hit the floor, and she felt a spark from his fingers against her hairline and—she gasped.

Spock was in her mind, his emotions clear in their determination with the slightest sliver of fear.

However, there was another link in her mind.  She couldn’t identify it at first.  It was tentative, unsure, but there was a fierce sense of acceptance.  Her eyes flew open and she looked up at Sarek and realized that the emotions were his.

“I can feel you,” she whispered as the ship seemed to still.

“Fascinating,” he murmured, his eyes searching her.  “You indeed have telepathic abilities, Daughter.  I needed only to touch you for our parental bond to form.”

“But I don’t—we don’t—” she muttered as he helped her to her feet.  “None of us—”

“Perhaps you are genetically enhanced, either through natural selection or science,” Sarek suggested as his eyes ran over her to check for injuries.

She didn’t have time to respond when she heard Spock’s voice filter through the room.  “Lady Isabella, report to the transporter bay.”

As soon as it was there, it was gone.  It must have been an intercom.  She looked at Sarek.  “Where’s that again?”

Of course, without a word, he escorted her out of the room and they moved quickly to the turbolift.  It was only then that Bella realized she was still wearing the strange, thick socks. 

She didn’t have time to think about it, however, when she was being led in a strange room with people behind a consul and Jim Kirk, of all people, standing on a platform—along with Spock.

Joy leapt through the bond as their eyes connected and she didn’t hesitate to break into a run.  Spock caught her in his arms, his face pressed between her neck and her shoulder.  Love washed through her, and she realized it was both his as well as hers.  She somehow loved him, although she barely knew him, and at this revelation, contentment surged into her mind and he sighed in relief. 

“Isabella,” he murmured, pulling away letting his hands run down her face.  “If I do not come back—”

Worry flowed down her spine at the thought, and she shook her head.  “Don’t say that—I don’t know what’s happening—but you are coming back—and if I have to go, I will come back.  Don’t I always?” she asked desperately.

“Indeed,” he agreed, fondness shining out of his eyes.  “You always come back to me, my Isabella.  And when I return from this mission, I will go out and find your planet.”

Her eyes fluttered shut as emotions that were his, that were hers, that were both of theirs flowed through her.  “Who needs Earth when we have the stars?”  Tears fluttered against her eyelashes and then Spock kissed her, just the press of lips against lips, but all the hope of their past and their future falling between them.

When he pulled away from her, he looked into her eyes.  “Everything is yours if I do not return.  You remember the code?”

“My birth year.”

“Eight digits,” he told her.  “The year according to your fallen god” (well, she wasn’t exactly Christian, but that was an odd way to describe the Christian calendar) “and then the month according to your country, and the day.”

A small laugh escaped her.  “That’s so romantic, Spock.”

She leaned up to kiss him again, soft, slow, and only the clearing of someone’s throat caused her to pull away.  Her fingers traced one of his ears and she stepped off the platform to stand next to Sarek.

“Lady Isabella is the future of the House of Surak,” Sarek told him firmly.  “She will be well, my son.”

Spock nodded once and then looked into Bella’s eyes, his love completely infusing her.  A small, sad smile formed on her lips, but then light seemed to scatter him and he was gone.  She realized she had traveled like that just earlier that day, from the planet, onto the starship Enterprise.  It was safe, then, and Spock would come back for her. 

“Do you know what’s happening?” she asked Sarek as calmly as she could.


“This is a—military—ship,” she guessed, looking about. 

“Indeed, Daughter,” he told her.  “Starfleet is an armada with an exploratory mission.”

“Huh,” she determined.  “Whenever people went to explore back home, they would conquer ‘uncivilized’ lands because they thought they were better.  But they were never better and they created havoc even centuries later, distrust forming between former colonies and their—colonizers.”

“It is a story that is repeated on many planets,” he informed her carefully.  “Would you be amenable to a meal, Daughter?  I have roughly determined that it is time.”

She looked up at him and felt amusement.  “I don’t suppose there’s Vulcan food on the ship.  Spock always gives me Vulcan food, and it’s amazing.”

“I am certain that something can be arranged,” Sarek returned before he indicated that they should leave.

Her gut twisted as Spock’s emotions filtered toward her, his wonder, his fierceness, the thrill of adrenaline coursing through his veins.  She forced herself to ignore it, if that was even possible, and walked out into the ship, knowing she was gaining looks from the various Terrans they were passing.


Published by excentrykemuse

Fanfiction artist and self critic.

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