An Irresistible Challenge

Freshly released from Spiced Peaches:

by J. Rosemary Moss

Genre: Fan Fiction (Star Trek; Spock-McCoy; Slash)

Rating: PG

Summary: In the wake of The Journey to Babel, Sarek confronts McCoy, demanding to know what lies between the doctor and his son.

…

Goddamn stubborn Vulcans. Now I know just where Spock gets it from—like father, like son. Just try keeping either one of them consigned to sickbay...even after hours of an insanely dangerous surgery. And if that wasn't bad enough, I had Jim on my hands too. He'd managed to get himself stabbed in the midst of all the mayhem.

I released Spock two days ago. That pointy-eared elf refused to stay put after I allowed our fearless captain to return to duties. I wanted to keep both of them for another day, but, as Amanda put it, we'd all had enough of their kvetching. Even Spock was at it...he tried to cover his complaints with logic, but he was bitching and moaning just as much as Jim. And Amanda made sure to point that out to him.

(I'm starting to love Amanda, by the way. Since our own mothers are dead, Jim and I are both planning to adopt her as a substitute. Spock'll just have to learn to share.)

Sarek, meanwhile, was just as annoying as Jim and Spock. His kvetching was slightly more dignified, that's all. But I managed to keep him a bit longer. And thanks to Amanda, I didn't even have to use restraints. But I would've, if that'd been my only choice. The man had nearly died on us; I wasn't taking any chances.

But now I could wash my hands of all three of them—or so I thought as I sank into my chair and leaned back, hoping to catch a quick nap before I started on my reports. But no such luck. Sarek stormed into my office and demanded a private word with me.

All right—'stormed' is the wrong word. He rang and then asked for a word. But despite his polite, even tone, I could tell that this was no request. It was more like he was granting me a royal audience.

But I played along by politely inviting him to take a seat opposite me. He could only be here for one of two reasons, I decided. He might have come to thank me for saving his life—but Vulcans aren't known for showing gratitude. Why thank a surgeon for doing his job? That left only one other possibility: Sarek wanted to know what was going on between myself and his son.

That was going to be damn hard to answer, because I wasn't sure myself. There had been certain, ah, intimacies between us after that fiasco of a wedding of his. All right, all right—'intimacies' might be too mild a term...and God knows we hadn't let up any since that first time. But we'd never discussed where we were going with this. Outside of our cabins, we were business as usual.

We'd been damn discreet too, or so I'd thought. Yeah, Jim-boy knew what was going on—but we never even tried to keep it secret from him. He knew both of us too well. But we could trust him to keep quiet about it. He certainly wouldn't have run and told Sarek.

But here Sarek was, and he didn't look like he meant to say thank you. In fact, he was sizing me up the same way a judge would size up the accused.

"What can I do for you, sir?" I drawled, giving the ambassador my most charming Georgia smile as he took his chair.

"You are involved with my son," he said.

It was not a question. But, hey, at least he didn't beat around the bush. That's one thing I'll say for Vulcans: you always know where you stand with them.

"He's a good friend of mine," I returned. I hated to say that—it felt like a cop-out—but I had no idea how much Spock wanted his father to know. The two had only just begun speaking again after some seventeen years of silence.

"Do not toy with me, Doctor. He is considerably more than that. Your...feelings...for him are quite obvious. I had ample time to observe them throughout my stay in sick bay."

I kept my smile firmly in place, even though I was swearing under my breath. So much for discretion. But maybe it wasn't my fault—Sarek probably had some uncanny way of reading his son. The whole damned race allegedly has some degree of telepathic abilities.

"I don't see how our relationship—or lack thereof—is any concern of yours," I managed.

To his credit, that statement didn't anger him. Of course, it's damn hard to anger a Vulcan. I know how to push Spock's buttons, but it'll take me a while to learn how to push Sarek's. He's not only a Vulcan, after all, but a diplomat to boot. Of course, most diplomats are pricklier than an offended porcupine.

"Vulcan 'relationships' are not a private matter," he informed me. "Spock's mother and I must carefully select a mate for him."

"Yeah, you tried that with T'Pring," I reminded him. "And not only did she dump Spock—she damn near got our captain killed in the process."

He raised his eyebrows at me and then slowly nodded. "T'Pring was an unfortunate choice," he owned. "And I understand, Doctor, that it was your quick thinking and skilled deceit that saved your captain's life and prevented Spock from being charged with murder."

I cocked my head at him, wondering if that was a compliment. At length I decided that it didn't matter. "Mr. Sarek, in light of the debacle of Spock's wedding, I think you've given up any right to make further, ah, arrangements for him. Spock's going to have to find his own way."

Sarek stiffened ever so slightly at that. "Dr. McCoy, to bond with a Vulcan is a serious matter. You would do well to consider whether you wish to subject Spock to the difficulties a marriage between you would no doubt present."

I rolled my eyes. "Neither Spock nor I have said a word about marriage. We haven't reached that point yet. But if it came to that—"

I paused, wondering what it'd be like to marry Spock. I already woke up next to him three or four mornings out of every seven. I already borrowed his clothes when I felt like it—our regulation t-shirts and trousers were the same size. We already argued about my coffee habit. Christ, how much different would marriage be?

It wouldn't be different at all. Getting married would just mean—well, it would just mean that we wanted to make all that permanent, right?

"Why has it not come to that?" Sarek demanded, breaking me out of my thoughts. "Are you toying with my son?"

I stared at him. I hadn't expected him to play the 'protective parent' card. "No, I'm not toying with him," I said.

"Your first marriage was a failure," Sarek pointed out. "You left your wife and your daughter in order to join Starfleet."

I had to take a deep breath to stop myself from clenching my fists. "I suppose I should be flattered that you felt the need to research my background," I told him. "But those bare-boned facts don't tell the whole story."

"What is the whole story?" he persisted.

"None of your damned business," I said. I paused again and looked away. "It is Spock's business—when he asks me, I'll tell him the whole of it."

"You cannot simply walk out of a Vulcan marriage," Sarek informed me. "They are, of necessity, much more binding than the human equivalent. You will not be able to run away a second time."

His voice was almost maddeningly calm. God damn these green-blooded, walking computers. What the hell would it take to get a rise out of this guy?

I rolled my eyes again. "I've already told you that Spock and I haven't gotten as far as talking about marriage. When and if we get there—well, I'll take your words into consideration."

Sarek didn't respond to that. Instead, he allowed a long silence to fall between us. I was the one who finally broke it.

"You wasted some seventeen years not speaking to your son," I said softly. "If Spock and I, uh, bond, are you going to put him through that again? Are you going to shun him just because you don't approve of his choice of a mate?"

"If you thought that I would shun him, would you part ways with Spock now?" Sarek countered.

"No," I answered. "I'd get Amanda on our side and join forces with her to make you see reason."

If I didn't know better, I'd swear that the barest hint of a smile crossed Sarek's lips. "For the record, Dr. McCoy, I never said I disapproved of Spock's choice of mate—or potential choice. I merely wish to ensure that my son does not rush into a bond with a human who is ignorant of the commitment such a bond requires."

He paused, regarding me steadily. I started blushing. I couldn't help myself. I still felt like a criminal facing judgment. Or, worse, like a kid receiving a lecture from an over-strict parent. And that's probably just how Sarek viewed me: as a promising child who needed a firm hand. It was an impressive authority act—I'll give him that. But he'd best not take it too far.

"It would behoove you, Doctor, to learn more of Vulcan culture before you and Spock—what is the human phrase?—get carried away."

I cocked my head at him. "Is that an invitation?"

"It is," he confirmed. "I would like you and Spock to come to our home on Vulcan as soon as you can arrange to take leave together."

I swallowed. Invitation my ass—that was an order. But, for Spock's sake, it was an order I'd have to put up with. So much for taking a relaxing vacation on some beach somewhere.

I managed a nod. "I'm game if Spock is," I said. And I'll make sure Spock is, I added to myself. Much as I'd prefer a real vacation, I wasn't going to let him pass up this opportunity to spend some quality time with his father.

"Amanda and I will make the necessary preparations," he said as he rose to his feet and nodded at me dismissively. Apparently the royal audience was over.

I sighed and shook my head as he swept out of my office. He was going to make for one hell of an interesting father-in-law. Then all of the sudden I found myself grinning. I couldn't wait to learn how to push his buttons.

I never could resist a challenge.

~The End~