Snippet 1d

"I will stay as long as you wish," Spock replied in equally silent a tone, following in step with the admiral. "I have learned over the years there is no such thing as a swift "in and out."

"How right you are," Kirk admitted, before straightening himself as Admiral Bent opened the doors, and led them inside.

However. Once they were inside - it took almost less than a second for Kirk and Spock to realize that they were not in the place they had believed Admiral Bent was leading them.

Quite the contrary, actually. The room was empty. Dark. And there was another door on the other end of it that led into what looked like a lab of some kind.

The doors behind them shut loudly and firmly.

"Well, now," Admiral Bent turned toward Kirk and Spock, a perfectly casual look on his face. "Looks like they've all left. Sorry about that."

"That's fine," Kirk said, his voice even - though everything in his posture suggested wariness. He was very aware, suddenly, of the officers flanking him and Spock on either side. "We'll just head back to the shuttle bay, then."

"No...no, I don't think that's a good idea," Admiral Bent said, as though sympathetic toward them. He clasped his hands behind his back, and regarded them both with a regretful look. "Earth and Vulcan, you see...they're so similar in many ways. And one of them...I've noticed recently...actually has to do with how much they need the two of you. Or rather..." he glanced at the officers briefly. "...how much better they might be without you."

"We pose no threat to their wellbeing, Admiral." Spock said, and Kirk knew from his tone and shift of posture that he had little hope of negotiation.

"No. But you do pose a threat to ours," Admiral Bent said, his expression still neutral as he looked at the two of them. "It's complicated. Not something you really even have to understand. You just have to live with it. Or, perhaps..." He reached for the inside of his jacket.

Kirk and Spock both moved before he could even draw out the phaser, though. Both of them whipped out their own phasers, pointing them at him in perfect synchronization. The officers around them immediately pulled out theirs, as well, but Kirk and Spock already had their weapons successfully trained on Admiral Bent.

"Don't even try it," Kirk said, his stance steady beside Spock's. "You know exactly where you'll go if you even try to fire that thing. Don't do anything stupid, Bent."

"I don't intend to," Admiral Bent said, his eyes widening in innocence. He withdrew his hands from his jacket, before reaching toward his belt instead. "...I'm just going to call someone, then. If you'll be so kind as to allow me."

"Keep your hands above your head, Admiral." Spock said, his voice calm but commanding as he pointed it at him in perfect parallel with his former captain. "Order your men to stand down."

"Oh, I'm afraid I can't do that," Admiral Bent said simply. "You see, this operation is simply too important for either of you to comprehend. You spent so much time mourning over that ridiculous ship of yours that you failed to see what Starfleet has been doing in your absence. We've had to...cut back on certain things. Captains and Vulcans merely being among the casualties."

"You're talking insane," Kirk said, his eyes narrowing. "Does Admiral Archer know about this?"

"No," Admiral Bent said simply. "But he will. All of them will. It's only a matter of time." He looked at the officers on either side of Kirk and Spock. "Finish them off."

The next few seconds seemed like nothing more than flashing images.

There were the officers that moved, pointing their phasers at Kirk and Spock without hesitance. There was the movement from the two of them that followed, flashing out instinctively to best the fire from the phasers being shot at them.

And there was also an image. One, solitary image of the woman appearing. Stepping through the lab door in front of them, still dressed in white...dark, sharp eyes fixed on the two of them as the last phaser shots from the officers managed to catch them both.

And darkness was what they knew after that.

---***----

'Die. Death. ....Dead. Never imagined. Not this way. Am I dead? What happened? What does it mean...How could it have been this way? What was happening?'

Thoughts like this, endless and in a continuous stream, passed through Kirk's mind. It was as though he wasn't really thinking them...the thoughts were just there, as the image of the room with Admiral Bent, Spock, and the other officers faded out. There was only a split second of pain. And nothing else after that.

It all just faded out. Faded completely to black. He had the feeling of exhaling every last bit of oxygen in his lungs, and then finding himself with no need to draw in a breath again. Not for a while. Not during the time that darkness and vague colors swam before his eyes. Voices, faint and indiscernable flowed in and out of his consciousness. He recognized all of them...and yet none at all.

'Never die. Only the beginning. Never separated....never apart....'

The vague thoughts stopped, suddenly. Kirk abruptly felt the presence of his body again, unaware that he'd lost the feeling until it returned to him. He felt himself down, kneeling down on the ground, fully aware of the physical part of his mind again.

But the ground...the ground was not the floor of any standard Starfleet ship or base. It wasn't carpet, or wood, or concrete. It was...soil. Soil and grass, soft and natural beneath him. The smell of clean air blew around him in a gentle breeze. Wind rustled through tall grass, and an open sky.

Kirk opened his eyes.

Below him, he realized, he was correct. Grass and dark soil greeted him. He felt himself positioned over it, and - glancing at himself, he noticed that he was wearing his old captain's shirt - new and golden, looking just the way it had when he'd first received it as a new captain in the Fleet.

Not only that, but he felt younger. Physically, he felt only half of his 40-some years. He straightened slowly, testing the feeling further, and found that it was only further confirmed when he stood up. And then, raising his head, he glanced around.

It was like fully waking up in the middle of a dream. As far as he could see, a vast grassy plain was spread out before him. And above that, a gray sky, swirling with fast-moving clouds and winds made it seem like a passing place from another dimension. Wind blew across the plain as though they were standing in an old-fashioned prairie on earth. In the countryside, far away from everything.

Where was he? ...what had happened?

These thoughts fully, rationally came to his mind as he turned to look fully behind the place where he was standing. And...it was when he did that, that he realized he was not alone.

About ten yards away, standing with his back to Kirk, was the tall, lean form of a man who looked very familiar. From his stature, to the dark blue shirt that he wore, to the dark brown, windswept hair...he looked every bit like...

....no...

Kirk felt his stomach clench, his chest constricting slowly with it. He found himself suddenly unable to breathe, fixing his eyes on the figure in front of him. It couldn't be. It couldn't possibly be. Not in a hundred years.....not in a million light-years...

And then the man turned around, and all doubt was removed completely. Casually, almost expectantly, the man turned around. And fixed him with a look that Kirk would only ever place with the man he'd loved and let go so many years ago.

Kirk's breath stopped in his chest. He felt his legs weaken beneath him, and he sank down slightly, barely able to support himself. His throat constricted, as an almost nauseating wave of disbelief and blind hope struck him. And, finally, somehow...he managed to speak. "......Bones...?"

"What are you staring at?" McCoy said, giving him a look when he saw him on the ground. Jim watched in disbelief as he walked over to him and hoisted him up, the familiar touch sending an electric pulse through his arms. "What the hell is the matter with you?"

Kirk stared at him, unable to take in what he was seeing...what he was feeling. This was a dream...it had to be a dream...but it felt real. Physically real. Everything was real.

"Bones," the word left his mouth without him consciously allowing it. His hands reached up blindly, one gripping the doctor's arm, while the other found its way to McCoy's face. Exactly as it had been before...down to every last detail. The shape of his jaw, the curve of his lips...the deep, dark brown of his eyes. Everything was absolutely and completely him. "Bones...are you...is it really...?"

"Nice to make your acquaintance," McCoy grouched, moving to sit him down on a rock. "Sit down, Jim. Eleven damn years and already your memory's going." He shook his head as he got him to sit. "I was right about one thing though - you'd have to be killed before you'd ever leave that damn place."

"Killed...but...we..." Kirk found the words simply leaving his mouth, and somehow managed to cut himself off. He could barely bring himself to blink, his gaze fixed unmovingly on the man beside him. It began to sink in, slowly. He felt a burn build in the back of his eyes, his hands beginning to tremble. "Bones...dammit..."

He never took in when he actually moved, but the next thing he knew, he was all but wrapped around McCoy's familiar, lean frame, everything about the other man unbelievably familiar. The feel of his body, his scent, his presence...so strong and assuring, as though it had never left in the first place. Helpless against the grief and relief that flooded him, Kirk felt choking sobs rip from his chest as he clung to his husband with all the strength he had.

Kirk felt two strong and familiar arms wrap around him tightly and bring him closer, everything about the scent and feel just overwhelming him with familiarity. Neither said a word as Kirk allowed himself to be taken over by his emotions, the whole of it coming forward with an intensity made it hard to breathe. "Take it easy, Jim," McCoy warned after a few moments. "You still need to breathe, you know."

Kirk shut his eyes tightly, trying his best to draw in a good breath at McCoy's words, but failed miserably. It came in as more of a hiccup, his arms not releasing McCoy in the slightest as he buried his face against the doctor's shoulder. "C...can't..." he finally choked out, fully aware that he sounded more like a weeping child than anything else. "...m-missed you...s-so much...I j-just...c-can't bel-lieve you're h-here..."

"What," McCoy grumbled. "You thought I'd be going to hell or something?"

"N-no," Kirk tried to take in a deep breath again, trying to compose himself. He swallowed hard, keeping back another sob in favor of beginning to breathe. "Just...it's been so long...and now I'm...we're..." He lifted his head slightly, tilting it to look at McCoy's face again. "...I just can't believe it. It just...this can't be real..."

"And why the hell not?" McCoy asked, looking down at him. "You're dead Jim, what did you think would happen?"

"I don't know," Kirk said, finally managing to regain himself enough to straighten up a bit, though he barely moved his arms from their place around his husband. "I guess...I just wasn't expecting to die for a while. I didn't really think about...where we'd actually be. I just wanted you to be there...you don't know how long those years were, Bones. You can't even imagine..." He lifted a hand again, almost tentatively, brushing it along McCoy's face. "...and you haven't even changed at all."

"Well what'd you expect," McCoy said, his voice gruff as Kirk's emotion began to make him slightly uncomfortable. "It's not like I have any reason to change."

Kirk nodded, almost distractedly. He glanced over McCoy's face once more, as though unable to find more words. Then, tentatively, he leaned forward and gently, lightly, pressed his lips against the doctor's, making himself hold it for just a moment before pulling away, as though afraid of what it might mean. He drew back and looked back into McCoy's face, gauging his reaction with a small bit of trepidation.

McCoy paused for a moment, and then gave him a look. "Rusty with age, are you?" he asked, shaking his head as he leaned forward, pressing their lips together firmly in a much more passionate kiss.

The kiss, quite literally, went straight to Kirk's head. Like a strong intoxication, a dizzy sensation immediately came over him as McCoy's taste overwhelmed his senses. It had been so long, the feel of it was indescribable. And, very rapidly, he realized he couldn't get enough.

In another second, the rock below them had somehow slipped away in favor of the grassy ground below, and Kirk crushed himself against McCoy, kissing him with a fervor that could only come from having missed the feeling for over ten years.

**

When physical feeling had returned to Spock's senses, the first thing he felt was the warm, dry air of a climate that could only be similar to Vulcan's. The ground below him was soft, though. Grassy, perhaps, which would be an unusual thing to find on his home planet.

When his eyes opened, he realized immediately that he had never seen the place where he was now before.

It was a stretch of land, grassy, with a dark gray, swirling sky overhead. The air was warm, though. Perfect. Not the kind you would expect from a day on Earth that was overcast, like this.

He had never seen a place like this before. And yet, somehow...he almost knew what it was.

The landscape was perfectly made, almost the sort of thing you would see in a dream. It was tailored to be comfortable and visibly appealing for him, though it lacked the complete perfection that an expected 'heaven' would have for a person entering the afterlife.

He knew he had died. He had felt the connection from his Earthly body break, even though what he felt now was entirely physical. That could only mean one thing. This place was not heaven. It was somewhere...in between.

He rose to his feet, beginning to turn and take in his surroundings. He had barely glanced to the horizon, however, before he suddenly felt another presence. And it wasn't the usual, fleeting acknowledgement that comes when another person simply enters the room.

This presence was familiar. More than familiar. It was part of him. A piece of his own soul that had long since left him, many years ago.

He didn't need to hear Lesh'ar approaching him. He knew the hands that came from behind to rest on his shoulders simply belonged to him.

"I did not expect to see you here." Spock said, his voice seeming louder in the intense silence. "Time had been good to you."

"Time has little meaning here, t'hy'la," a low, gentle, and very familiar voice answered him. The long hands on Spock's shoulders gently turned him. Dark brown eyes moved lightly over his face, and then settled on his. "It is good to see you."

Spock looked up at him, nodding once in agreement. After a moment he lifted his hand, playing it on the side of Lesh'ar's still face. Placing his fingers carefully, he closed his eyes.

A flowing warmth filled his entire being as a connection almost instantaneously weaved between them. A song, graceful, lovely, and so familiar filtered into his mind, intertwining beautifully with the gentle melody that his own mind reached out with. The two strands of music melded together as though they had never been separate, and Spock was only barely conscious of Lesh'ar's hand coming to rest lightly on the side of his face.

'There you are,' the gentle song seemed to hum to him, caressing his conscious and slowly enveloping him, softly and loving, like a warm embrace. 'I am here, t'hy'la. My beloved. I am here.'

Spock's eyes closed even more tightly, a sadder melody coming from him and mingling with the happiness of the reunion. He released the side of Lesh'ar's face, opening his eyes and looking up at him. He nodded as he withdrew his hand. "I believe you."