Character Code: S/Saa, Sa/Am
Summary: Spock seeks to understand an obvious failure in his father’s judgement. Happy Valentines Day, saavikistas.
Disclaimer: Star Trek is copyrighted by Paramount/Viacom. I do not own any of their characters.
“I will meditate now, aduna.” Spock rose from the cozy couch in the family room. This was a dangerous place. He always had to be careful that he rose before he allowed himself to fall asleep, comfortable in the familiar surroundings in the house where he had grown up. He had indulged himself more than once, only to find Saavik standing over him in the morning, beckoning him to breakfast. He always regretted that he had not meditated the night before, and been in bed whenever she came to join him.
“Um,” acknowledged Saavik, too engrossed in whatever book she had chosen from the wall of antique books facing the overstuffed chair on which she sat. The similarities did not escape Spock’s quick glance. He wondered that she had picked up his mother’s typical response, and that Saavik so reminded him of his mother, there in the chair with her legs covered in a colorful afghan of his mother’s handiwork. Amanda and Saavik had been close.
Spock tilted up her book as he passed to glimpse the title. He looked at Saavik quizzically.
“Curiosity,” she muttered.
Spock’s eyebrow rose as he reached for her cheek and brushed it with his fore and middle fingers. “I will not be long,” he hinted.
“Um,” she said.
Entering their dark bedroom, Spock walked to the firepot beast and lit it, allowing the glow to build and fill the room with the brazier’s diffuse red light. He unrolled his mat and placed it in front of the firepot. From with in his robes he withdrew the object of his curiosity and set it gently before him.
It was a note from his father, Sarek, to his mother. Spock had found it among his mother’s things after her death. He had never mentioned to his father that he had taken it. His father had never asked about it. *Curious, that he should have been so careless. This could be easily misconstrued.* Spock had never understood what Sarek had had in mind to send such a note. Most Vulcans would take offense. If the news media ever saw it, Sarek’s career could have been negatively impacted.
Spock positioned himself for meditation and formed his questions in his mind. *Why did I think it necessary to take possession of this note? Why would my father write such things?*
*I took it for Sarek. She was only recently dead. Perhaps the appearance of the note would upset him.* Spock entered a deeper state and meditated on the conclusions he had drawn. Yes, he had certainly been correct to have spared his father finding the note that his mother had kept hidden so long. Good. The next question. Why would he write such things?
Reconciling the date on the note to his parents’ lives, Spock realized that it corresponded to the time that his father had been Ambassador to Earth. *They were not married.* To master his reaction, Spock sunk deeper into his meditative state.
Not wishing to disturb him, Saavik entered quietly. Passing behind him to her side of the bed, she placed the book on her bedside table, then noticed the note in front of Spock and froze. Shocked, she turned and let herself out of the house and into the surrounding gardens. She would not have believed it possible of Spock, but even she could never anticipate him. She took a seat on the chaise that had been Amanda’s and waited for Spock to emerge from his meditations.
Spock drifted slowly, allowing his conscientiousness to return. Satisfied that he now understood his father’s intent, Spock rose from his mat, rolled it together with the note, and seeing that Saavik had not returned to bed, went to his study.
When he had completed his work, he returned to the bedroom, and leaving the firepot brazier for Saavik’s meditations, climbed into bed.
Saavik awoke, chilled in the night air. She shivered and chided herself for falling asleep there. In their warm bedroom the firepot still glowed for her. Watching Spock sleeping peacefully, the brazier’s flickering light illuminating his face, she almost missed the note he had left for her. She reached for it and moved closer to the firepot. In the red light the outline was unmistakable. A Heart. And inside, words that would stay with her forever. Of course, no one must ever see this. She read it once again, committing it to memory, before extending her arm to place it into the beast’s fire. Curiously, she stopped, and surprised herself by reaching instead for Amanda’s book on her bedside table, placing the note there. Forever.