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Chapter Text

Captain Liam Shaw of the USS Titan stifled a yawn behind his hand as he waited for his "guests" to transport over. 

He and his crew had been perfectly content to survey the asteroid fields around Yansi IV until three days ago, when he'd received word from the brass that he was to pick up a group of ambassadors and their staff, and ferry them to some conference on the other side of federation space. 

"Banae, Savol and…" he stalled as he recited the names of the ambassadors to himself. Damnit, he'd been over this half a dozen times this morning. I hate diplomatic assignments. 

"T'kaa'Vim, Sir," supplied Seven, her pronunciation of the Rigelian ambassadors name sharply accented, and no doubt perfect. 

"Right, right," nodded Shaw. "T'kaa'Vim." 

"T'kaa'Vim," stressed Seven. 

"That's what I said," said Shaw. "T'kaa'Vim ."

"It's… close enough," said Seven, though the hint of disparagement in her tone suggested otherwise. 

Shaw smiled to himself a little. They'd come a long way since Seven had taken up the position of first officer, and surprisingly, she was much better at this kind of thing then he was. 

"T'kaa'Vim," he repeated once more, under his breath. 

"Are you feeling alright?" asked Seven. 

"Is there a reason I shouldn't be?" asked Shaw. 

"It has been my experience that most people experience a certain level of apprehension in these sort of situations," said Seven conversationally. Shaw frowned and stared at her blankly. She raised an eyebrow at him. "You did read the mission briefing?" 

"I skimmed it," admitted Shaw. He'd learned the names of the ambassadors and the basics of their goal and destination. 

"I see," replied Seven disapprovingly. "Then you have only yourself to blame for what is about to happen."

"Ready to transport," announced the transporter technician. 

"What do you mean?" asked Shaw. 

"Proceed," Seven instructed the technician. 

"Seven?!" said Shaw, glaring at her as the transporter pad began to glow. 

Seven nodded towards the pad. You'll see, in other words. 

Shaw quickly composed himself and prepared to greet the ambassadors. 

He didn't see what "situation" Seven was referring to at first glance. He traded introductions with the Bolian ambassador, Banae, and his aides, and then the Rigelian, T'kaa'Vim, (who's name Shaw pronounced without causing any offence) and her aides. 

It was when the Vulcans beamed aboard that Seven's warning became immediately, sparklingly, crystal clear. 

Shaw had read the ambassador's names. He'd not bothered to look at the names of their aides or security team. 

Her eyes met his the moment she materialised, and just as quickly looked away. She might as well have punched him in the gut. 

Shaw shook off his shock and ran through his greetings, but confrontation couldn't be entirely avoided. 

"And my chief of security…" Ambassador Savol gestured towards the woman who had once broken Shaw's heart. 

"We've met," said Shaw. The understatement of the century. "Hello, T'Kal." 

She nodded silently. Of course she did. They were working, as a brief, quiet, clearing of Seven's throat reminded him. 

Shaw turned away and shoved his personal feelings aside as he led the ambassadors on a tour of his ship, stopping to show them each to the suites they'd be assigned. Everything went without a hitch, and he managed to hold it together until he got into the turbolift with Seven to head back to the bridge. 

"Damn," he sighed, letting his shoulders drop. 

"I take it my assumption was correct then?" said Seven. "She is the same T'Kal?"

"Yeah," said Shaw flatly. "That's my ex-fianceé." 

*****

Seven entered Shaw's quarters later that evening to find him apparently deep in thought as he stared out of the window, arms folded across his chest. 

"The meal begins in 15 minutes," she reminded him. 

"I know, I know," he waved a hand in her direction. "I should talk to her, right?" 

Seven opened her mouth to respond, but he continued. 

"Or no? She's working. I don't think I've ever spoken to any other ambassadors bodyguards," reasoned Shaw. 

Seven had seen the captain in many moods, most of them negative, but this was a new one. The closest she'd seen Shaw get to this level of flustered was when Geordi La Forge had been on board during the changeling mess, and that had been a happy flustered. 

"I do not believe I am qualified to advise you on this," she finally replied. 

"No, I guess not," agreed Shaw. He let out a deep sigh. "I'm not going to talk to her. Unless she talks to me." 

"Probably for the best," said Seven. 

Shaw nodded, and picked his dress uniform jacket up from the back of his chair. 

"I hate these things," he complained as he pulled it on. He glanced at her. "You look ok." 

"Thank you," replied Seven, surprised. If Shaw said she looked ok, she must look far beyond it. He was - an asshole - understated, like that. 

"How long has it been since you last saw her?" asked Seven, out of curiosity. 

"17 years," said Shaw, without pausing to calculate it. He fastened up his jacket. "She hasn't changed." 

"Vulcans age at a far slower rate than humans," said Seven. 

"Yeah," nodded Shaw. "Probably just another reason we'd never have worked out." He sighed, and shook his head. "Let's get this over with." 

*****

Shaw almost made it through the whole evening; Almost. But the Rigelians had brought rum, and they considered it a great slight not to accept a drink when offered. And he was offered it several times. 

T'Kal stood at the side of the room, hands clasped behind her back, still as a statue. A very beautiful statue that Shaw had once shared quarters with. And a future. At least, that had been the plan. 

Shaw blamed the rum for his decision to go over there.  

"T'Kal," he greeted her as he stopped beside her.

"Captain Shaw," she returned, her gaze still fixed forward, watching the room. 

"Really?" He said.

"We are both on duty. The use of rank is appropriate," said T'Kal. She finally looked at him, if only briefly, dark eyes flicking in his direction. "And it is Lieutenant commander T'Kal."

"Thought you would have made captain long before me," said Shaw. "What happened?" 

"I took a sabbatical," replied T'Kal. 

"Huh," grunted Shaw, mulling over the reasons that might be. "Husband?" 

"No," replied T'Kal. Her jaw clenched ever so slightly, just the way Shaw remembered it doing when they argued. 

He turned and leaned his back against the wall, looking out across the crowded captain's mess. For ambassadors, they sure knew how to party. Even the Vulcan, Savol, seemed relaxed, engaged in conversation with Seven of Nine, both of them looking deeply interested in whatever the topic was. 

"It's good to see you." The words tripped off his tongue, and he mentally kicked himself. Good to see her?! Like his stomach hadn't been tying itself in knots all afternoon. "I mean, you… you look good." That's not any better. 

"Thank you." T'Kal turned her head, and he smiled, just a little, attempting to brush off his long-disused charm. Idiot, he told himself. "So do you." 

"I look old," he corrected her. 

"Older, yes. But… good," she said. No jaw clench this time. That was progress, he guessed. 

"So, Ambassadorial team?" He said, moving back to safer territory. "How'd you wind up with that?" 

"Ambassador Savol requested me after I saved his life during the Borg incursion," she replied. Shaw winced reflexively, and of course she noticed. "You were instrumental in their defeat, were you not?" 

"Me? I just ferried some old Starfleet farts around and got assimilated for a couple of hours," said Shaw dismissively, ignoring the cold horror that lurked in his gut. He gestured at Seven of Nine with the hand that held his glass of rum. "Commander Seven there is who you want to talk to if you want the hero's scoop. I wouldn't be here without her." 

"I see," said T'Kal. There was a heavy moment of hesitation. "Are you and she…?" 

"No! No, no no no no no," said Shaw immediately, shaking his head. "We're… I'd say friends, but I'm not sure we're there yet. But she's a damn fine first officer. Probably should be captain, but she didn't want it yet. I'm sure she'll be kicking me out of my chair in a year or two though." 

"What will you do then?" asked T'Kal. 

"Retire, I guess," said Shaw with a shrug. "Maybe teach at the academy, if they'll have me. I still know my way around a warp core." 

"I'm sure," said T'Kal. He saw her lips part ever so slightly, and shut again, debating where to ask him something. He waited, betting she was still the curious type. "Do you have someone at home?" 

"No," he said. He raised his glass to his lips. Strong stuff, this Rigelian rum; Tasty too. Fuck it. "There was this one woman I was crazy about - even asked her to marry me - but she dumped her engagement ring on our dining room table and transferred off our ship in the middle of my shift. Must have been planning it for weeks and didn't even leave me a fucking note." He sipped at his drink, staring at her over the rim of his glass. 

"Liam…" 

Fuck, did it sting to hear her say his name.  

"It's 'Captain Shaw', remember?" He said, unable to keep the bitter edge from his voice. He knocked back the rest of his drink. "Enjoy your stay on the Titan, Lieutenant Commander. Seven can handle any inquiries you have." 

He walked off, wishing he'd felt any kind of satisfaction from letting his stupid drunk heart do the talking, and staunchly ignored T'Kal for the rest of the evening. 

Chapter Text

Captain Shaw, who had been quietly dozing face down on the senior officers mess hall table, winced as Seven put her breakfast plate down with the force of a thousand rhinos. Or at least, it sounded like it. 

"Good morning, Captain," she said as she sat down. 

He groaned in response.

“I see the rigelian rum is still in effect,” remarked Seven.

“I’m not drunk, I’m hungover,” corrected Shaw. He lifted his head and peered at his first officer. “How are you ok? You had some too.”

"One. Not… four glasses, I believe?" said Seven. 

"Five," muttered Shaw. "But what was I supposed to do, refuse and insult the Rigelians?" 

Seven placed a sleek silver hypospray down next to Shaw's cup of coffee. 

"This should help," she said. "And for future events, what you are supposed to do is not finish the contents of your glass. They will not offer a refill until the glass is empty, and not finishing is not an offence." 

"Thanks," said Shaw, picking up the spray. "Although I could have done with knowing that information last night." 

"If you had bothered to read the briefing notes I sent you, you would have," said Seven disapprovingly. "Take the spray before the rest of the bridge crew get here. You look like ass… Captain." 

"That's what I like about you, Seven. Your abundance of charm," said Shaw. He discharged the hypospray against his neck, and began to feel almost immediately better. 

"One of the few things we have in common," said Seven dryly. "I saw you speaking with Lieutenant Commander T'Kal last night." 

"Yeah. Went about as well as you can expect," said Shaw. He took a long sip of his coffee. "How did you know about her, by the way? I don't remember telling you the ins-and-outs of my love life." 

"Naturally I familiarised myself with your Starfleet record before I became your first officer. You listed her as your next of kin contact for several years, until her transfer," said Seven. 

Shaw nodded slightly in acknowledgement, and then sighed. 

"I didn't think it would be so difficult. Seeing her again," he admitted. Seven just raised an eyebrow, and he regretted saying anything. "Forget it. How's the day looking?" 

"No issues to report, Captain," replied Seven. 

"Really? None? Not even a little hiccup in engineering that I can poke?" said Shaw, slightly dismayed. If he couldn't find a valid task to work on, he'd just sit and think, and he wasn't in the mood. 

"Would you like me to break something?" suggested Seven, a faint smile on her face. 

Shaw gave it some serious consideration, and Seven rolled her eyes and went on with eating her breakfast. 

*****

Ambassador Savol considered his ability to read people, of various species, to be quite a boon to his career. Some, such as humans, were quite easy; most of them were extraordinarily expressive. They had a rather charming expression for it; ''wearing one's heart on one's sleeve". 

Captain Shaw gave the impression of a man who was naturally prone to such behaviour, but tried incredibly hard not to be. The ambassador had seen his mask slip during their diplomatic dinner last night, however. 

Vulcans, by contrast, were much more stoic. That did not mean they were entirely unmoved by things, of course. 

And Lieutenant Commander T'Kal had certainly been moved last night. Savol had been surprised by the demonstration of pain on her face following her conversation with the Titan's captain. It had been brief - no more than two seconds, at most - but quite extraordinary. 

Today, she appeared to be making up for the lapse by being rigorously tense, and, in the ambassador's opinion, unnecessarily thorough. 

"Are you expecting us to be attacked, T'Kal?" asked Savol after the third time in two hours that T'Kal had paced the perimeter of their suite, checking for security flaws. 

"No, Ambassador," she replied, and somewhat sheepishly returned to standing guard beside the door. Another sign of agitation within her; she was normally content to sit and read within the safety of another federation ship, not watch the door like a starving le-matya.  

Savol was a man of great patience, but this behaviour was most unlike his chief of security, and he did not care for it. 

"Do you know what I find to be the most effective means of solving a problem?" said Savol.

"No, sir," replied T'Kal. 

"Communication," replied Savol. He lowered his padd and stared at her. "Whatever your dispute with Captain Shaw is, it will not be solved by hovering around me like a mother sehlat." 

"I apologise, Ambassador. I did not realise our… dispute was so apparent," said T'Kal. 

"Quite," said Savol, a touch amused by her obliviousness. She was young, he reasoned - not even 60 yet - and from a family that was prone to bouts of emotionalism. He did not find it to be a flaw; her unchecked desperation had saved his life in the past, after all. "Is your dispute professional, or personal?"

"Personal, sir," answered T'Kal, her discomfort evident in the shift of her stance. 

"I see. Well, my point still stands; perhaps more so," said Savol. "Talking may resolve whatever… this is." He gestured at her. 

"Sir?" She frowned. 

"Go and see him," he said. 

"I am on duty, Ambassador," replied T'Kal. 

"I relieve you of that duty," replied Savol. "And I believe I would also benefit from some solitude. So, if you would…" he nodded at the door. 

"As you wish, Ambassador," she agreed, and stepped outside. 

Savol waited for a moment, and then opened the door again. As he suspected, she had simply opted to switch from guarding the inside of the door to the outside. 

"T'Kal." He raised an eyebrow at her. She refused to meet his eye. 

"Some things cannot be fixed, Ambassador," she said quietly. 

"If not fixed, then at least discarded," said Savol gently. "Whatever your issue with Captain Shaw, it is clearly something that weighs on you. Resolve it, for your own sake. And, I suspect, for his." 

"Very well," T'Kal agreed, although her reluctance was still highly evident. "I will try." 

Ambassador Savol gave her a reassuring nod and turned back to his rooms as she left in the direction of the turbolift. 

*****

T'Kal had been standing outside the captain's quarters for four minutes and 37 seconds, and counting. 

Hello Liam, may I come in? 

No, fuck off/Yes, come in. 

Then what?

What could she even say? Ambassador Savol was a skilled diplomat, but she doubted his advice on this matter. Talking could not undo the past. 

She shouldn't be here. 17 years, 3 months, 16 days, 4 hours, 19 minutes, since she'd taken his engagement ring off of her finger. It had been the right option, the only option… so why then, did it still hurt? 

Illogical. 

T'Kal heard the turbolift doors open and turned to leave;  It wouldn't do to be caught loitering in the corridor, and she was no closer to pressing the doorbell than she had been when she arrived. Better to just go; she would control herself more and hope the ambassador did not bring it up again. 

Pressing the doorbell would have been pointless, as it turned out; Captain Liam Shaw was not in his quarters. 

He was standing in front of the turbolift instead. 

Chapter Text

"Hello," said T'Kal.  

"Hey," replied Shaw. For a moment, neither of them said anything more, simply watched each other, ten feet or corridor between them. "Guessing this isn't a professional visit." 

"No," confirmed T'Kal. "Can we talk?" 

"What's left to say?" said Shaw. Right. Yeah. Like he didn't have 17 years of things to say just waiting to fall out of his mouth if he opened it for too long. 

"And yet, you wanted a note," said T'Kal. Her voice stayed steady, yet Shaw felt the scorn in her words. 

"Yeah, I wanted a note! Or better yet, you could have ended things in person. Instead of running off like a coward," snapped Shaw. Yep. There it was. The start of the torrent. He closed his mouth, immediately angry at himself. 

"There was nothing I could have said, or written, that we had not already discussed. You act as though our separation was a surprise to you. I told you I would leave if things did not change, and they did not change," said T'Kal, frowning at him. "Though I will admit that perhaps I did not leave in the best manner…" Shaw made an ugly scoffing noise in his throat. Fucking understatement. "And for that… I apologise."

Shaw swallowed the dry lump in his throat and turned his head to the side, studying a patch of the air grating somewhere down by his shin. She apologised; It didn't make him feel even a single bit better.

The turbolift hummed behind him, and Shaw stepped aside just before the doors opened. Lieutenant Mura walked out, on the way to his quarters. 

"Captain," he greeted Shaw. 

"Mura," returned Liam. 

He watched the tactical officer walk down the corridor, nodding politely at T'Kal as he passed her. At his door he glanced back at them, obviously curious but knowing better than to stick around.  

Shaw sighed through his nose, and moved towards his own quarters. He hit the door controls and gestured inwards. 

"If we're gonna do this, might as well do it in private," said Shaw. 

T'Kal nodded, and walked through the door. She was as graceful as he remembered, her steps light against the metal floor plates. He followed her in, and walked around her, unfastening his jacket as he went. 

"Drink?" He offered. 

"No thank you," replied T'Kal. 

Shaw tossed his jacket on the bed and walked over to the cabinet that held his booze. He fixed himself a neat whiskey and took a decent sip, savouring the warmth of it. 

"I made you pasta primavera," he said softly. "That night. We'd been fighting so much. I got off my shift an hour early and gave Chef Marcie my holodeck time so I could use her galley." He turned around, and this time it was T'Kal who wouldn't make eye contact, her gaze focused on the floor midway between them. "You always said you liked it when I cooked. So, I did. Attempting to be… romantic. Or whatever." He couldn't keep the condescension out of his voice. 

"Lack of romance was not our issue, Liam," said T'Kal. 

"A bit more couldn't have hurt though," he gave a half-hearted smile that quickly turned into an anguished frown. "Why did you have to go like that, T'Kal? Six fucking years together and you just… left like it was nothing. Did I really mean that little to you?" 

"Little?" repeated T'Kal, her dark brown eyes snapping up to meet his. Her expressions were always subtle - she was Vulcan, after all, - and it had been so long since he first started trying to read them, but the little crease between her brows was a dead giveaway: she was pissed; Or as close to it as she allowed herself to be. "You meant everything to me." 

"Well you had a funny way of showing it," replied Shaw sharply.  

"What you meant to me was irrelevant in the face of your unwillingness to commit," said T'Kal. 

"I asked you to marry me!" exclaimed Shaw. 

"By human metri… oh," she stopped mid-sentence, a look of profound disappointment coming over her. "We have had this conversation before. So many times."

"Yeah," agreed Shaw, nodding slowly. "You wanted a bond."

"I am Vulcan; I needed a bond," corrected T'Kal. "I could have shown you how vital it was to me if you'd ever let us meld, but you wouldn't even give me that." 

"This… " Shaw tapped the side of his head. "... Is not something anyone else needs to deal with." 

T'Kal sighed. 

"You have not changed," she said. "Just as stubborn and closed off as you always were."

"Hey, come on now, let's not downplay all the shit I've been through; I'm worse," said Shaw facetiously. He took a far longer drink, emptying his tumbler. "We were always going to fail, weren't we?" 

"No," said T'Kal, with a slight shake of her head. "You made a choice, and that choice caused us to fail." 

"I was protecting you," said Shaw firmly. 

"You were rejecting me," countered T'Kal. "I had needs, Liam. And it was not that you could not meet them, but that you would not. For years, I waited, hoping you would eventually let me in… but how long was I supposed to wait? To be content with the shallowness of physical affection and hollow words, and never know your mind? Perhaps that would have satisfied a human partner, but I am not human." 

"Alright, I get it, I was a shitty fiancé for a Vulcan!" replied Shaw, his voice rising. "But just up and fucking leaving? How long did you plan that one for? Was it logical to not even say goodbye? Do you have any idea what it was like, coming home and finding you gone?!" He could feel tears burning his eyes, and fought a losing battle to keep them at bay. He jabbed an angry finger at her. "You tore my goddamn heart out, T'Kal!" 

"Then we are equally scarred from our association," replied T'Kal, a sour bite in her voice.

Shaw's mouth dropped open a little, stunned at her admission. Even at their happiest, she had never verbally admitted to loving him - that had been fine, he hadn't needed to hear it to know it - and he tried to find the right response. Before he could, T'Kal turned and walked hastily from the room, and his bewilderment was quickly replaced with anger. 

"What, no goodbye? Oh sure, why break the habit of a FUCKING LIFETIME?!" Shaw yelled as the door slid shut behind her. "Fuck!" 

He slammed his empty glass back down on his drinks cabinet, and filled it again, one shaking hand pouring the drink and the other wiping away the tears on his face. 

Seventeen years, and it still hurt like it was yesterday; Of course it fucking did. 

He still loved her. 

*****

T'Kal was fleeing. 

Oh, she did it very calmly, her steps appropriately paced for walking a starship's corridors, her face a mask of indifference, but inside, she was most definitely fleeing. 

Her heart thudded painfully, hummingbird fast in her side and she forced herself to slow it, to take control, to not let these… emotions overtake her. 

She mentally checked her position on the ship with the map she had memorised before boarding, and headed for one of the smaller common areas, an observation room on the starboard side that was mercifully empty. She ordered a tea from the replicator set into the far wall, and took a seat, facing the wide windows, and there, tried to arrange her thoughts. 

"I was a shitty fiancé for a Vulcan!"

At least he'd had acknowledged that, even if he'd done so in anger. 

It should not have hurt her so much, especially after such a length of time. But then, Liam Shaw had always been her weakness. He still had no idea of how much pain he had really caused her, all those years ago. And now, just as it had been then, she lacked the ability to truly tell him. 

Her identity as a Vulcan warred with the emotions she was supposed to keep contained. They would never resolve this if she could not be honest with him. But therein lay the issue; if they had bonded, or even just melded occasionally, words would not be necessary. To have to speak aloud of such things was a perfect example of the problem itself. It was simply not the Vulcan way. 

Liam had loved T'Kal, the woman, but he had never truly accepted T'Kal, the Vulcan. And though she could understand his reluctance to share his thoughts - she knew of the trauma he had suffered, the guilt he carried - ultimately, she could not perceive it as anything but a rejection of her ways and her needs. 

Especially when it began to make her ill. 

Years of emotional and physical closeness without a telepathic component had confused her Vulcan physiology to the point that she began to suffer detrimental effects; and Liam had not even noticed. Their lack of a bond screamed its silence to her louder than ever then, and she realised with heartbreaking clarity that it would always be that way.  

So she had left, to be with her parents and her siblings, where their familial bonds could heal her, make her whole again. And she did not say goodbye. She justified it as there being nothing left to say, but deep, deep, down, she knew the truth: she had wanted to hurt Liam, the way he was hurting her. 

T'Kal had regretted it the moment she had transported off of their ship, but it was too late to change it; And she has drafted dozens of letters to him over the years (52, to be precise) and sent none of them, always fighting to follow the ways of Surak, to quash the emotions she had never managed to truly resolve. 

Only to admit, to his face, 17 years later, that he'd broken her heart as surely as she'd broken his. 

Shame overwhelmed her, and for a brief moment, she let it. She could almost hear her mother's disappointment at the tears she'd cried when she'd returned home, her father's derisive lecture on the folly of getting involved with a human. Then she pulled herself together. She drank her tea, and began to calmly - logically - lock away the storm within her. 

It was far easier thought about than actually done, of course; being near Liam again had made one thing abundantly clear. 

She still loved him. 

Chapter Text

*** 23 Years Earlier ***

Lieutenant Shaw wasn't really sure what he was looking at. Oh, sure, it was beautiful, coloured crystal shapes linked by fine silver chains, and wisps of shimmering silk but… ornament? Jewelry? Hell, it could be lingerie for all he knew. 

"Only 4 slips," offered the proprietor of the stall. "An absolute bargain. You won't find cheaper on the whole planet!" 

"Just looking, sorry," said Shaw and stepped away to wander over to the next stall. He wasn't going to send his sister something he couldn't identify, even if it did look lovely. 

The diversion of the marketplace was rapidly losing its appeal, and Shaw wondered what else there was to do for the remaining two days of his shore leave on Halii. Some of his fellow engineers had talked about checking out some of the local bars. That would do, he guessed. Honestly he'd have been fine to just stay aboard the Indianapolis and mooch about his room, maybe get an hour or two on the holodeck since the majority of the crew was planetside, but his sister's birthday was three weeks away; he could just get a present to earth in time if he sent it within the next couple of days. And it was kind of nice to breathe fresh air for a bit. 

"Stop, thief!" 

Shaw's head whipped around at the call, and he saw a young haliian man running through the middle of the street, where the crowd was thinnest. Vaguely he recognised someone in a gold Starfleet uniform was pursuing him, and that was all the detail Shaw needed before deciding to act. He stepped out into the accused thief's path, and the man slammed into him, knocking the wind out of him and sending them both to the ground. 

Almost immediately, the haliian tried to scramble to his feet, but Shaw wasn't having that.

"Don't think so, buddy," he wheezed, still winded, and grabbed the man's shirt. The thief struggled for a few seconds, and then gave up, the fight going out of him. 

Someone hauled the haliian off of Shaw a moment later, and he got up and started dusting himself down. Nothing broken.

"Thank you for your assistance." 

"You're…" holy fuck, she's gorgeous. "... Welcome," replied Shaw as he looked at the Vulcan woman who'd spoken, immediately caught off guard by her face. "Lieutenant Shaw, engineering, USS Indianapolis."

"Lieutenant T'Kal," she returned. "Security, Soon to be of the same vessel." 

New transfer, thought Liam. Must be my lucky day. 

Yeah right, like you've got a shot with her, said a different part of his brain. 

T'Kal turned her attention to the thief, who apparently knew when he was beaten. "My purse. Now."

"Alright, alright. Sorry," he said as he reached into the pocket of his shorts and pulled out a small pouch. "Didn't know Vulcans could run like that." 

"Then you are ignorant as well as dishonest," replied T'Kal, taking back her property. "I believe there is a security office on the edge of the marketplace." 

"I gave it back!" protested the thief. 

"That doesn't make it right, kid," said Shaw. Halii was a decent federation planet. Likely the young man would get a stint in rehabilitation, maybe even get an honest job by the end of it; He was probably just in it for the kicks.

"Indeed," agreed T'Kal. She nodded goodbye at Shaw, and turned away, pulling the thief along by his upper arm. 

"Hey, wait!" said Shaw. 

She turned back, one upswept brow raising questioningly, and he immediately forgot whatever he'd been about to say. Had he even had something planned in the first place? Say something, idiot! 

"Can I… buy you a drink later?" Real smooth, Shaw. 

Her other eyebrow rose in what Shaw could only assume was surprise, and her beautiful dark eyes flicked down and back up, as if she was studying him. 

"No," replied T'Kal. Figures. Well, I tried. "You assisted me; therefore I believe I should purchase you a drink." 

"Works for me," said Shaw. 

*****

T'Kal brushed the front of her tunic down, considered changing back into her uniform, and wondered what in the name of Surak had compelled her to arrange this… date; For surely it could be labeled as such.

A simple 'thank you' had been all the courtesy required for Lieutenant Shaw's assistance, especially as he was a fellow officer, and she had given it, and yet she had still agreed to meet for drinks.

She was without a mate, and he was undoubtedly handsome, but still, she had never attempted to date a human before. Her parents would be aghast if they knew. T'Kal banished that thought immediately. She was a grown woman, and besides… It was just a drink. It didn't have to mean anything. 

She was pleased to see Shaw was already there when she arrived at the bar they had agreed to meet at; Punctuality was a fine trait.

"Lieutenant Shaw," she greeted him, thankful the establishment was quiet enough for conversation at a regular volume. 

"Call me Liam, please," he smiled, and it made something flutter most alarmingly in her stomach. "You look great." 

"Thank you," she responded. "So do you." 

They ordered some drinks, and got to talking about their careers, when and why they'd joined Starfleet, their families, their hobbies… 

"Glass blowing? Seriously?" said Shaw. 

"Have you ever been to Vulcan, Liam?" asked T'Kal. 

"Only briefly," he replied. 

"You may have noticed we have an abundance of sand," said T'Kal lightly, and he started laughing. She found it pleasant, the sound triggering the peculiar flutter she'd been getting all evening from his presence.   

"Sorry to interrupt, but we are closing soon," said a waiter. 

T'Kal was shocked to realise she had lost track of time; a phenomenon she had only heard of before now. Her time sense quickly reasserted itself, and she realised they had been talking for nearly five hours. 

Shaw tipped back the last of his drink, (their sixth round; that should have clued her in to how long they'd been sitting there talking!) and she did the same. 

"Wow, would you look at that?" said Shaw as they stepped out into the quiet street. She followed his gaze to the sky, where four of Halii's five moons lit up the night. "Stunning." 

"Very," she agreed. They had already spent all evening together, it was now technically early morning, and logic told her the next step was to bid Liam goodnight and retire to her lodgings for meditation and sleep. And yet… "It would likely look even better above the lake." 

"I could go for a walk," said Liam in agreement. She really did like his smile; And his eyes; And the way his hair curled slightly to the side. 

Several hours of further conversation later, he kissed her for the first time as the sun rose over the water, and T'Kal finally found a name for the flutter in her stomach. 

It was shon'ha'lock, the engulfment; or as the humans called it: love at first sight. 

Chapter Text

Shaw looked at the photo with a heavy heart: 23 years. No grey in his hair back then. No beard either. T'Kal, looking at him with affection in her eyes, had barely changed at all, of course, but it might as well have been a lifetime ago. 

His doorbell chimed. 

"Come," he called out. Seven strolled in, padd in hand. "What can I do for you, Commander?" 

"Just some reports that require your signature," answered Seven. "And I thought it best to check on you." 

"Well I'm still alive, so consider me checked on," said Shaw. He still wasn't used to her being genuinely concerned about him. It felt a little embarrassing, though he knew it came from a good place. 

He pointed at the empty seat across from him, knowing it would take him a few minutes at least to read through the reports, and held out his hand for the padd. She passed it over and then took a seat.

"Drinking again?" asked Seven, gesturing at the nearly empty tumbler on the coffee table. 

"Yep," replied Shaw. 

"Do you ever think that perhaps you rely too heavily on alcohol?" asked Seven. 

Shaw sighed. 

"Do you have a better option?" he asked, staring at her. 

Seven didn't answer, turning her attention to the other items on the table. She picked up the photograph and looked at it, and then him, and then the photograph again. 

"Yeah, I know; it's hard to believe I didn't just appear one day as a pissy, middle-aged asshole," said Shaw. He reached the end of Dr Ohk's inventory order requests and pressed his thumb to the authorisation box. It flashed green, and he scrolled on to the next report. 

"You look… happy," said Seven.  

"Yeah," said Shaw softly. He looked over. He couldn't see the photograph itself in Seven's hand, only the back, but it was already seared into his memory anyway. "That was our first date. Spent half of it in a bar, the other half sitting on the bank of Lake Jaanid on Halii; Talked until the sun came up."

He frowned, cleared his throat, and went back to reading the security incident log. He saw Seven's hand move again in his peripheral vision. He thought about telling her to mind her damn business, but something made him hold his tongue. 

"Andorian diamond?" She asked after a moment of examination. 

"Good eye," said Shaw. There'd been a minor scuffle among two of the newer ensigns. He made a mental note to talk to Lieutenant Commander Thasa about it tomorrow, and signed off the report. 

"This must be worth a small fortune," remarked Seven. 

"A year's worth of lieutenant's stipends," said Shaw. He looked up, and saw Seven studying the inscription etched into the inside of the band. "Or at least, what they were paying lieutenants 20 years ago." 

"And you kept it all this time," said Seven, fixing him with one of those deeply scrutinising looks of her. She didn't blink often enough, Shaw reflected. 

"Well T'Kal sure as shit didn't want it," said Shaw. 

"You could have sold it," reasoned Seven. 

"Yeah, well… I didn't," said Shaw. 

"Have you tried talking to her?" asked Seven. 

"Actually, yes. She stopped by earlier. We ended up arguing, it was just like old times," replied Shaw with bitter humour.  He shook his head. "A good engineer knows when something is beyond fixing, Seven." 

"Perhaps," said Seven. She set the engagement ring down on top of the velvet drawstring bag it usually resided in. "But a great engineer finds a way to fix it anyway." 

Shaw handed her back the padd. 

"Night, Seven.”

"Goodnight, Captain,” she replied. 

He waited until she'd left to pick up the ring himself, and stared at it, running the tip of his thumb over the engraving inside it. It was an antiquated Vuhlkansu word, rarely used in modern Vulcan, but one he had thought fit them best, at the time. 

K'hat'n'dlawa - half of each other's heart and soul. 

"A great engineer finds a way to fix it anyway."

Bless Seven and her fucking optimism. For a brief second, he'd nearly believed her; But people weren't machines, and he couldn't fix a damn thing. 

*****

"How did it go?" 

T'Kal froze in her attempt to quietly pass by the ambassador, whom she had assumed was in deep meditation. 

"Poorly," replied T'Kal. 

"Unfortunate," said Savol. He opened his eyes and studied her for a moment. "This upsets you?" 

"Yes," said T'Kal simply. She knew Savol well enough to know there was no sense in denying it, although she was slightly dismayed to realise that her distress was still so easy to see. "It was foolish of me to expect a different outcome." 

"What outcome would you have preferred?" asked Savol. 

T'Kal considered the question; it was a fair one. What had she wanted from speaking with Liam? Forgiveness, perhaps? For leaving so cruelly. Ah, but then she would have to admit it had been - at least partially - done in spite. Acknowledgement of the pain he had caused her? Again, he could only apologise for the parts he knew about; She had never told him about the sickness their bondless relationship had caused her. 

Reconciliation, a part of her dared to whisper. 

"... I may have to meditate on the answer to that, Ambassador," admitted T'Kal. 

"I hope you find your peace, T'Kal," offered Savol. 

She nodded and continued on to her room. 

So do I, Sir. 

*****

Savol watched T'Kal thoughtfully as she made her way to her room, wondering if there was something he could do to help. His wife often told him he was far too meddlesome in the affairs of others, but he could hardly help it; it was his calling to repair relationships between others, both by his nature and his career. 

A simple instruction to the computer to find cross-references between the Starfleet records of Captain Shaw and Lieutenant Commander T'Kal had confirmed his first guess, that they had once had a romantic relationship. No wonder the woman seemed so destabilised by Shaw's presence; contrary to the way they were generally perceived by other federation species, Vulcans were often far more affected by matters of the heart than they externally let on. 

His wife would definitely recommend he stay out of it. It was not like he could do anything for them… at least, not alone. He pondered that for a moment. 

"Computer, contact Commander Seven," instructed Savol. There was a beep, and a moment later, the woman in question answered. 

"Something I can help you with, Ambassador?" asked Seven. 

"I hope I am not disturbing you, Commander. I was wondering if you were free to meet with me. There is a… sensitive matter I wish to discuss," explained Savol. 

"I can be at your quarters in 10 minutes," agreed Seven. 

"Actually I was hoping we could meet in the dining hall. It is good to stretch one's legs once in a while," said Savol. 

He also did not want T'Kal to overhear their conversation.

Chapter Text

For two days, Shaw had no further interaction with T'Kal. Perhaps she was avoiding him; perhaps he was avoiding her. He looked for her whenever he entered a common area, but whether he planned on leaving, ignoring, or confronting her if she had been there, he didn't really know. 

Seven was keeping an unnervingly close eye on him too, like she expected him to crack, which he found a little insulting. He'd survived wolf 359; the dominion war; the frontier day borg invasion; he could handle sharing the same ship with his ex-fianceé for a week.

"She's not here," said Seven with a slight roll of her eyes as Shaw peered cautiously around the mess hall. 

"I have no idea what you mean," he replied, attempting nonchalance. 

"Of course not. You always enter the mess hall looking like you expect it to contain predatory animals," replied Seven. 

"I just don't have the energy for another argument," he said. 

"Perhaps you could simply talk instead?" suggested Seven. She paused to order her lunch and collect it from the replicator. 

"How do you think arguments start, Seven?" Said Shaw. He did the same, and they made their way to an empty table. The senior officers' mess was available, but sometimes it was good for morale to show their faces in general. And also the ambassadorial teams were less likely to be in this one. 

"Why did you break up?" asked Seven bluntly. 

"Why does it matter?" asked Shaw, a little sharply. 

"You have been separated for almost three times as long as the relationship lasted. It is hard to imagine you could be this affected by it so many years later if you were content with how things had ended," reasoned Seven. 

"You know, sometimes I think I liked it better when we weren't so friendly," deflected Shaw. 

"If you revert to calling me ‘Hansen’, I will stab you with a fork," said Seven calmly. 

Shaw nodded and shrugged. That seemed fair. 

"So?" Prodded Seven. 

"Why are you so interested in my personal life? I'm not asking you how Raffi's doing. Or, er… I don't know any of your other exes," Shaw realised. 

"She’s doing well. Her son and daughter-in-law are expecting a second child, and she's very excited about it," said Seven easily. "I know this, because we had closure, and still talk to one another." 

Shaw sighed and poked at his food. 

"We just weren't a good fit," he said. 

"Surely it would have taken less than six years to realise that," said Seven, not buying it. 

"You'd think, but no," said Shaw. 

"So you do not intend to talk to T'Kal again while she is here?" asked Seven. 

"Not unless she has a pressing security question that can only be answered by the captain of this fine vessel, No," said Shaw. 

Seven looked almost disappointed to hear it. 

*****

"Commander," Ambassador Savol greeted Seven as she entered his suite. 

"Given the unofficial nature of our goal, I think it would be more appropriate if you'd called me Seven," said Seven. 

"Very well. Likewise, you may call me Savol. Would you care for some tea?" Offered Savol. 

"That would be pleasant, thank you," smiled Seven. The ambassador gestured to her couch and she took a seat. "I take it from your invitation that Lieutenant Commander T'Kal is not here at present?" 

"She is in the gym," confirmed Savol. He collected two cups of tea from the replicator and brought them over to the seating area. "So, to business, if it can be called such: To my knowledge, they have not interacted since I contacted you." 

"Captain Shaw confirmed it at lunch today. He also has no intention of speaking with her himself," said Seven. "I'm not certain our involvement will be welcome." 

"It is a risk, especially for you, since he is your superior officer," acknowledged Savol. "If you wish to bow out, I will understand. But I believe they will both come to appreciate the encouragement, should we succeed in getting them to resolve their issues." 

Savol watched the commander consider his words. From their conversations, he had come to determine she was quite the remarkable individual, with a wonderfully adept mind. A pity his middle son had found his own match; he would have found Seven of Nine to be a satisfactory daughter-in-law. 

"I asked him why they ended their relationship. He said they were 'not a good fit', but I think there is more to it than that," said Seven. 

"From what I have learned, he was somewhat correct, if downplaying the matter," said Savol. "I will not share the details, for her privacy, but I have good reason to believe there was no telepathic connection between them." 

The details being T'Kals medical record. He had seen it when he had hired her, of course, but only now did he have the context to see the larger picture. A Vulcan without bonds was not complete. It was why they formed parental and sibling bonds, why they typically betrothed their children so young. T'Kal had suffered a very specific illness 17 years ago, which usually had only one cause: a deficiency of telepathic contact. 

"Telepathy is a necessity for Vulcan relationships, isn't it?" asked Seven with a frown. 

"Yes," replied Savol. "But it is also something we rarely discuss. The dependency on another person; the emotional component of it… I am old enough to cease caring about how such things are perceived, but for my species as a whole, it is a difficult topic. You understand?" 

"Vulcans find it distasteful to admit to," said Seven with a tired expression. She looked thoughtful for a moment. "Do you suppose T'Kal told Shaw how important it was?" 

"I have no idea. But if she did, and he refused anyway, then no wonder there is such strong disharmony between them," said Savol. 

“Regardless of the reason, it’s clear there are still strong feelings between them,” said Seven. She sighed slightly. “What is our aim here?”

"They need to talk, without argument, without retreat," said Savol. 

"You have not spoken with Captain Shaw at length. Argument is very much his defence," said Seven dryly. 

"Perhaps a mediator, then?" suggested Savol. 

"Such as yourself?" said Seven. 

"Certainly not. As you said, our interference may very well be unwanted to begin with, my presence may only worsen things," said Savol. "No, I believe they would benefit from a truly neutral party: professional assistance. Perhaps a counsellor?" 

Seven's eyebrows rose slightly, her head tilting to one side. 

"I may have the solution," said Seven. "But we can't trick them into this. They have to be willing." 

"I agree. But we can at least encourage them," said Savol. Seven nodded. "I care for T'Kal; She is, in fact, a distant relative, although I do not know if she is aware of that fact. I want her to be content, and I do not believe she will be, as long as this wound between her and Liam Shaw remains; Likewise, I assume you must care about your captain a great deal to entertain the meddling notions of an old Vulcan."

"My relationship with Captain Shaw is… complex," said Seven lightly. "But despite our own personal conflicts, I think he deserves another shot at happiness." She smiled slightly, and picked up her cup of tea. "Now the only challenge is getting them to listen." 

Chapter Text

Shaw caught the turbolift down to Holodeck 2, and wondered what was so important to Seven that she had been insistent on him meeting her there. The only time they'd been on the holodeck together before had been the stupid team building program Starfleet had forced them to run (which they'd aced, naturally) and unless he'd missed a memo, they didn't have to repeat that little ordeal for another few years. Hell, Seven would probably be a captain herself by then, she'd have her own first officer to play escape room with. 

Seven was waiting for him outside the holodeck. 

"Alright, I'm here. What's the big surprise?" asked Shaw.

"Obviously I did not invite you to the holodeck to show you something in the corridor," said Seven. She held an arm out to the door. "After you, Captain." 

"Can you at least give me a clue?" asked Shaw as he walked through into what appeared to be a waiting room, several comfortable chairs and a receptionist's desk situated in front of a window that took up the entire wall with bright blue skies beyond it. T'Kal and Ambassador Savol were both standing in front of the receptionist's desk. Shaw held back his "what the hell" in front of the ambassador, but he gave Seven a furious glare when he turned back to look at her. 

Seven pretended not to notice as she joined him, pointedly ignoring his expression. 

"Ambassador, Lieutenant Commander" she greeted them. 

"What's this about?" asked Shaw, doing his best to keep it professional. There was every chance this was a professional matter. But he would still have appreciated a heads up from Seven that he'd have to see T'Kal again. 

"It has become obvious over the course of the last few days that neither you or T'Kal are willing to make the first step towards your mutual peace. So the Commander and I thought a… nudge in the right direction may be warranted," said Ambassador Savol. "This holographic counselling program can help the two of you navigate the things you struggle to discuss." 

Shaw's face darkened immediately. Not a professional matter then.

"You are out of line, Ambassador," said Shaw, trying his best to keep it civil. 

"Captain…" began Seven. 

"And you… " He pointed a finger at Seven, trying his best to contain the fury he felt. "I thought we were done with you stabbing me in the back, but apparently some things never change."

He turned and began to walk back to the arch.

"You don't keep an engagement ring 17 years after the relationship is over unless you still have feelings for the person who wore it!" Seven called after him. 

He ignored her and kept walking, but she followed him into the corridor. 

"Shaw, stop!" said Seven. 

He turned back. 

"You had no right to interfere like this, Seven. No fucking right!" He barked at her. 

"I had every fucking right, you're my friend!" shot back Seven. Shaw pulled back a little, eyebrows raised in surprise. "You're my friend," repeated Seven, a little calmer. She smiled at him. "Or at least, something like it. And I know you're capable of mending things with T'Kal if you just cut the bullshit and gave it a chance. A real chance." 

"Why?" Said Shaw, with a soft shake of his head. "Why would you do this?" 

"Because you deserve to be happy. After everything you've been through, you deserve that," said Seven earnestly. "And the Liam Shaw in that photograph? The one who stayed up all night to talk to a woman on a first date? Who saved up a year's worth of pay to buy her an engagement ring? He's still in there somewhere. He deserves a second chance too." 

"T'Kal's not gonna want me back," said Shaw with a roll of his eyes. "Look at me. I look like I could be her father."

"She's Vulcan, I'm sure she was aware of the disparity in aging when she first entered into a relationship with you," said Seven. "She's agreed to be here. At the very least, if you can't reconcile, you can move on. Truly move on. What have you got to lose?" 

Shaw mulled it over. Reconciliation: that was laughable. He'd been punching above his weight to get a woman like T'Kal when he was a young man, let alone now. But even his bitter self-loathing couldn't completely snuff out the little spark of hope that flared in him at the prospect. 

"One hour," he said, and walked back towards the holodeck. 

*****

"Thank you for agreeing to this," said T'Kal. She had to admit, she had despaired slightly when he'd first walked out of the holodeck. She wanted… well, she was not entirely sure. But something other than the painful chasm that sat between her and the captain on the other end of the couch.

"Talking to each other, I get, but I'm not sure about this," said Shaw, gesturing at the man sitting across from them.

"The Starfleet holographic counselling program was developed by the finest minds in Starfleet Medical, including the USS Voyager Mark 1 EMH, widely regarded as the first truly sentient hologram," responded the man. "Your mental well-being is our priority." 

"What are we supposed to call you?" asked Shaw. 

"I am simply 'the counsellor', but you may assign me a name if you wish," replied the hologram. 

"No, it's fine," said Shaw. He looked over at T'Kal and smiled, just a little. He was nervous, she recognised. "Where exactly are we supposed to start?"

"A good place to begin would be to give me a general overview of your history," interjected the hologram. "I have accessed your Starfleet records, but obviously there is not much pertaining to your romantic relationship." 

"We were together for six years, got engaged four years in, and broke up 17 years ago," said Shaw brusquely. 

"Yes, that information was part of your Starfleet records," replied the counsellor. "But perhaps you can give me a more personal account?" 

"The relevant facts are as follows; I am Vulcan, and require a telepathic bond to marry. Liam would not consent to this, or any other form of telepathic intimacy, such as a mind meld. This facilitated our separation," said T'Kal with a calm she did not entirely feel. 

"And our 'separation' was her moving out and transferring off our ship without telling me," added Shaw. He sounded like he was at least trying not to get emotional about it, which T’Kal appreciated. "No warning, no note, no goodbye. I’m still pissed about it.”  

"I see," said the counsellor. "What prompted you to seek couples counselling so many years later?" 

"Meddling diplomats and XOs," snarked Shaw.  

"It is the first time we have seen each other since our separation. We attempted to talk to each other alone, and it devolved into an argument. Our… friends thought a third party may be able to better resolve the issue," explained T'Kal. 

"It sounds like a conflict that invokes strong emptions. T'Kal, as a Vulcan, do you find it difficult to discuss such things?" asked the counsellor. 

"Yes," said T'Kal simply. She hesitated, and looked at Shaw. "But I am willing to make the attempt if it will heal things between us." 

"Good," said the counsellor. "Liam, what about you?" 

T'Kal met Shaw's gaze, her dark brown eyes locked on his green ones. Much about him had changed, as to be expected in a human over a period of nearly two decades, but his eyes were just the same as they always had been. Beautiful, and filled with memories he'd never shared with her. He smiled at her, lips quirking upwards amidst the neatly trimmed beard he now wore. It was a favourable addition, thought T'Kal idly. 

"Alright," he nodded. "I'm all in." 

"That's a good start," said the counsellor encouragingly. "I understand there is a lot of ground to cover and not a great deal of time in which to do so, so why don't you tell me - and each other - what you would most like to discuss today?"  

Shaw made a humming noise, and looked thoughtful for a moment. 

Total honesty, T'Kal told herself firmly. 

"I left because you made me ill," said T'Kal, her words tumbling out in an uncharacteristic rush. 

"What?" said Shaw, a look of confusion on his face. 

"Our relationship, not having a bond… it made me ill," said T'Kal. She hated the speed with which she was talking, but she raced to speak before the courage to do so deserted her. "Computer, access Starfleet medical database and give an overview of Tel-Awek'es syndrome." 

"Tel-Awek'es Syndrome. Species afflicted: Vulcan. A degradation of the psionic nervous system, typically caused by lack of telepathic communication. Symptoms include: migraine; memory loss; loss of time sense; loss of coordination; lower emotional control; fatigue…"

*****

"...loss of appetite; insomnia; persistent low mood; loss of libido; muscle spasms…" 

"Computer, cease description," ordered T'Kal, and the voice fell silent. "You get the idea." 

Shaw stared at her, a horrible sinking sensation in his gut. 

"You had that?" he asked, just trying to get his head around it. T'Kal nodded, just once. Lack of telepathic communication. "You had that… because of me?" 

"To be as close as we were, physically, and… emotionally" - he could hear how difficult it was for her to admit to that - "without a bond in place; It is not… the Vulcan way." 

Shaw was so very familiar with guilt - survivors guilt; post-outburst guilt; command guilt - but it didn't make the burden of it any lighter. All the times she had tried to tell him the bond was something she needed - needed, not wanted, needed! - And he hadn't listened. 

"Why didn't you tell me you were sick?" he asked. 

"It was too late," said T'Kal. "I knew how you felt about the bond, and I could see only two outcomes; either you would bond with me through coercion of my illness, or… you would not. Neither were acceptable to me." 

"That must have been a painful realisation," said the counsellor gently, and Shaw jumped slightly. For a second, he'd forgotten the damn hologram was there. 

T'Kal wasn't looking at Shaw any longer, her face turned away from him, but she nodded in answer to the counsellor's question. 

"Fucking hell," uttered Shaw. He leant back against the couch, head staring up at the ceiling, and quietly let the cogs turn for a moment. He thought about those last few weeks they'd been together, how short she'd been with him, how distant; After she'd left, he'd framed it as her preparing to leave him, but now? She was ill, and it was my fault. Other little things clicked into place. "The sabbatical." 

"Treatment for Tel-Awek'es syndrome is to re-open the psionic pathways. It can be done by healers, but the traditional method is simply to be with one's family," said T'Kal. "I went home. My sister had children during that time, and her career is a demanding one, so I stayed to help care for them. Before I knew it, 12 years had passed by. I became… complacent. But when the youngest of my sister's children entered the upper learning halls, my father insisted I return to Starfleet. And so now I am here." 

"So, in addition to making you sick, I also derailed your career," said Shaw bleakly. 

"Do not rebuke yourself for that," said T'Kal immediately. "I have plenty of time to build my career. I would not trade having been part of my niece and nephew's childhoods for anything. Truly, it was… what is the earth saying? About clouds and silver?" 

"Every cloud has a silver lining," said Shaw. He sighed. "I get it now." 

"Get what?" asked T'Kal. 

"Why you left the way you did," he said. He tipped his head to the side so he could look at her. "For a long time I thought 'what did I do that made her so angry at me that she'd want to hurt me like that?'" 

T'Kal's pretty, angled, eyebrows lifted, half disappearing beneath her bangs. 

"You knew?" she said in quiet surprise. 

"Not right away. But I've had 17 years to think about it," said Shaw. He smiled at her. This was working, he realised. "Knew I had to have pissed you off something chronic. I guess that's why I got angry when we talked the other day. Because you stood there and acted like the way you left was logical. But it wasn't, and that's fine. I mean, it hurt but… I can understand it." 

"It was not fine," said T'Kal. "I should never have… allowed my emotions to guide my actions."

"It's ok," he said. 

"No, it is not," insisted T'Kal sharply. 

She was struggling. Shaw could see it in the way her posture tensed, and her fingers, laying on her lap, pressed into her thighs. Being able to read her like that was both a comforting and upsetting reminder of how close they had been. 

Something in him broke at the sight of it. 

It didn't matter that she'd hurt him; It didn't matter that she'd broken his heart. He still loved her - had never really stopped - and all he wanted, suddenly, desperately, was to make her stop punishing herself. 

"Perhaps a short break?" suggested the counsellor. 

Shaw ignored him. For 17 years, he'd imagined T'Kal had been just hunky dory without him, that she'd cut him out and gone on with her life. He should have known better: he knew her better.

"How long have you been beating yourself up for this?" asked Shaw.

"Since the moment I stood on the Indianapolis transporter pad," admitted T'Kal. 

"Well, you can stop it. I fucking deserved it, alright? I was an ass. Still am. Just ask Seven."

T'Kal made a little scoffing sound in the back of his throat. Laughter. That was her laughter. The quiet one, anyway. He’d nearly forgotten how wonderful it sounded.

"What's that Surak quote? About how sometimes emotion is justified?" asked Shaw. 

"The cause is sufficient," said T'Kal. 

"I fucked up, T'Kal. I hurt you, and you hurt me right back. And maybe it's not the 'vulcan' thing to do, but I guess that's what happens when you date a human. We're a bad influence," said Shaw. 

"This is excellent progress…" began the holographic counsellor. 

"And this guy's fucking annoying," added Shaw. "Computer, freeze program." 

"I don't think pausing the mediator is part of the counselling," said T'Kal. Her lips twitched, just a tiny bit. Almost a smile. God, he missed her smile; He could still remember it, slight and rare, and for his eyes only, once upon a time. 

"We're doing ok on our own," said Shaw. He meant it. He'd had too much of real counsellors over his lifetime, without this photonic piece of crap Starfleet had whipped up to deal with the fact they didn't have enough flesh-and-blood therapists to deal with the amount of trauma spread across the organisation. "We'll be honest with each other, and I'll try to not be a piece of shit, and we'll figure this out, just you and me." 

T'Kal nodded, and he reached for her hand without stopping to think about it. She let him take it, her fingers trembling slightly against his. 

"How about a change of scenery?" Shaw suggested. 

"What did you have in mind?" asked T'Kal. 

He thought of his favourite photograph, the one the woman beside him could have just stepped out of. 

"Computer," he called. "Load Lake Jaanid, Halii." 

"Good choice," said T'Kal. 

Chapter Text

The couch beneath them morphed into a wooden bench, and the sterile counsellor's office disappeared, replaced by a grassy lake bank. The lighting dimmed, although not by much: four glimmering moons kept the darkness at bay, reflecting off the calm, still waters of Lake Jaanid. 

"Our first date," said T'Kal, the corners of her mouth lifting ever so slightly. 

"I went back there a few years ago, you know," said Shaw. "Hasn't changed a bit." 

"I know," said T'Kal. "I've been back there too." 

He was still holding her hand. 

"Do you really still have our engagement ring?" asked T'Kal. 

"Yeah," said Shaw. "At first I thought - hoped - you were coming back. And then when it was obvious you weren't: I don't know. Still couldn't bring myself to get rid of it." He gave her a sad smile, and ran his thumb lightly over the back of her fingers. "We had some great times." 

"We did," acknowledged T'Kal. She squeezed his fingers gently, and withdrew her hand from his. "But it was not sustainable. Without the bond…" 

"Really wish you'd have explained it better," said Shaw. He wasn't trying to point blame (he knew if there was any to be had, it was probably on him) but still: "Like really explained it to me. You used to say it was 'the Vulcan way' and that you needed it, but I just thought you meant it in a tradition way, not a biological requirement." 

"It is a difficult thing to speak of," explained T'Kal. "We purport to be creatures of logic and control, and yet our bonds are undeniably emotional. And the need for it aside: I wanted you to want to be with me in such a way. I wanted to know you in the way that mattered to me, because it mattered to me, and you would not allow it. You would not even let me meld with you ; After a time, it became… lonely." 

Shaw sat forward on the bench, his elbows resting on his knees, and dropped his head into his hands. It had seemed so important at the time, keeping her out of his head; 17 years without her had left him screaming at his past self for being such a fucking idiot. 

"I fucked up, T'Kal. I know that," he said eventually. "You used to compliment my logic; how I like order and I play by the rules. I thought if you saw the actual fucking mess I was on the inside, it would drive you away."

"Surely you must have realised you were doing that with your rejection?" asked T'Kal. 

"Yeeeah, not as quickly as you might think," he said, eyes wide at the memory of his own foolishness. "I guess I hoped you'd just… settle." He winced immediately after saying it. "Yeah, I hear it. I'm a dick." 

"I wish I could have," said T'Kal. "At least, some part of me did. That first argument, after our engagement, when we discussed bonding and you told me you would not: the logical thing to do would have been to end it then. But I could not bear to leave you. I told myself you might still change your mind. If I had not gotten sick, who knows how long we would have continued to circle the same issue." 

"No," he shook his head. "You'd have left eventually, even without the tel… awake…" 

"Tel-Awek'es syndrome," supplied T'Kal. 

"Yeah. Thanks," said Shaw. "You'd have woken up one day and realised you deserved better. If I wasn't such a selfish prick, I'd have told you myself back then, ended things instead of stringing you along." He sighed, and sat up. He wasn't feeling better, not yet, but… well, they'd said what needed to be said. Maybe better would come in time. "So, I guess that's it."

"That's it?" Said T'Kal, her eyebrows rising slightly. 

"Well, unless you want to pull a Beverly Crusher and tell me we have a secret lovechild or something," Shaw joked, trying to lighten the grim mood.

"No," said T'Kal. She looked… confused, if he had to label it. 

Now they were both frowning as he tried to work out what else there could be left to say. He decided to just cut the guesswork. 

"Alright, while we're still doing great on the honesty front, why are you looking at me like I kicked your sehlat cub?" he asked. 

"I thought perhaps after all this time… you might finally have changed your mind," said T'Kal. 

"About what?" asked Shaw, not following. 

"The bond," said T'Kal, as if it was obvious. 

He stared at her in disbelief. She couldn't mean… 

"You'd take me back?" He asked, wondering if there was some obvious other meaning that made more sense. Anything made more sense, really, then the idea she'd still want him. 

"Well, there would need to be a new courting period," said T'Kal, in such a matter-of-fact manner, Shaw would have laughed if he wasn't stunned. "I daresay we have much to catch up on after 17 years, 3 months, 19 days…" 

"Stop, stop," he said, holding his hands up. "You're saying, you would want to be together again. Now? After all this time?" 

"Oh," said T'Kal quietly. A brief look of unhappiness flitted across her face before it settled back to her usual neutral expression. "Of course, if you do not want that…" 

"Hold on, that's not what I'm saying," Shaw said quickly. "I just… look at me, T'Kal. I got old." 

"You are not even halfway through the average lifespan of a human," said T'Kal. Her eyes skimmed him quickly, and she gave the very slightest of smiles. "And you are still physically attractive, if one places importance on such things." 

Shaw let out a short burst of laughter that surprised even him. Ah fuck, he was going to cry. 

"Just like that?" He asked.

"Do you still love me?" asked T'Kal. 

"Yes." He didn't hesitate, just let the ridiculous fireworks in his chest take the reins. "I never stopped." 

"Likewise," said T'Kal softly. He grinned, remembering all the times before he'd told her he loved her and she'd given him that same response. "But… it cannot be the way it was before. You have to let me in, Liam." 

He drew in a breath, and tried to ignore the way his gut clenched. 

"What if you don't like what you find?" asked Shaw. 

T'Kal placed a hand on his face, her thumb brushing his beard tentatively. His skin tingled warmly under her touch; he'd missed that. He'd missed a lot of things.  

"Lobotomy, obviously," she joked dryly, and there was that secret little smile he loved so much. Shaw thought his heart might just fucking burst and wouldn't that have been an unfortunate end to what might just be the best day of his life. 

"Can it really be that simple?" He asked. He gave her a crooked little grin. "You and me, not a lobotomy." 

"Not everything in life has to be a battle, Liam," said T'Kal. 

She was still touching his face. He placed his hand over hers, holding it there for a moment.

"I'll get older," he reminded her. "You'll end up a widow."  

"I do not care about that. I never have," said T'Kal assuredly. "Yes, there will come a time when, injury and accident notwithstanding, I will outlive you, and I will have to spend the rest of my life without you. But we have already missed out on 17 years together, Liam; Please do not make me spend the rest of your life without you too."

"We can… start small, right?" He asked hesitantly. He doubted he could keep the worst of his memories from her indefinitely, but the idea of reliving them here, now, with her, was too much, no matter the reward. "Just a little meld? If there is such a thing." 

"Yes," nodded T'Kal. He could hear the hope in her voice, even in such a short word. 

He was still unsure, and he hated himself for it; fuck sake, she was offering him a second chance! He knew how rare those were. He dared to turn his head and pressed his lips to the palm of her hand, before guiding it away from his face and holding it loosely in his. 

"I died, you know," he blurted out. "During the frontier day assault. Seven saved me, but… I was dead. And then I was…" he swallowed the nausea that rose in his throat. "... borg. Sort of. It's… it's hard to explain." 

"A meld - and a bond - is more than a sharing of memories, Liam. Yes, I will inevitably see some of the things you fear, but…" T'Kal paused, trying to find the words. "It is so much more than that. And it can be… wonderful." 

He looked at T'Kal, weighing his choice. The light of the Halii's moons shone on her dark hair, and her face held so much restrained emotion, those beautiful dark eyes that he had first fallen head-over-heels for begging him to agree. She had not visibly changed much since the first time they'd sat here - the real here, anyway, on the real Halii, - but, Liam realised, she was not the same. And neither was he. And he really wanted to know this her. 

"What have you got to lose?": he remembered Seven's argument for getting him here in the first place. 

Nothing, he realised. He had nothing to lose, and everything to gain. 

"Ok," he whispered, his throat dry with nerves. 

"Really?" said T'Kal, her own voice hushed like she couldn't quite believe it. 

"Yeah," he said, finding his voice again. He nodded, and broke out into a wide grin, unable to contain it. "Whatever you need. I'm in." 

23 years after the first time, Liam Shaw kissed T’Kal on the banks of Lake Jaanid, and vowed that this time, he wouldn't fuck it up.

Chapter Text

T'Kal was right; It was wonderful. 

Dimly, Shaw felt the tears that tracked down his face and pooled against T'Kal's fingers on his cheeks, but he couldn't find it in himself to care about it. 

23 years, and this was what he had feared so much? Bitter regret and grief for what could have been clouded him, and T'Kal swept it away like a rainstorm after a drought: kaiidth, ashayam. We cannot change the past, only move forward.

Her presence in his head was indescribable: tangible and yet not; cool and warm; soothing and exhilarating. Never, in the six years of their prior relationship had he ever felt so close to her; Never in his life had he ever felt so close to anyone.  

Shaw had always known T'Kal loved him back then, even if she never spoke it, but to feel it… 

Now do you understand? asked T'Kal. Her inner voice was so buoyant, bubbling with all the things she did not show to the world. 

Yes, replied Shaw. Yes, he understood: her love for him, her need for this, the way his rejection had wounded her. That he'd denied her this, this unspeakable depth of belonging… I'm so sorry, T'Kal. I'm sorry…

"I'm sorry," he babbled aloud as she broke the meld, and he all but fell into her arms, overwhelmed by it all. "I didn't know." 

"It's alright," whispered T'Kal softly. She stroked her hand through his hair as he wept against her shoulder. "I apologize, ashayam. That was perhaps a little deeper than either of us intended for a first meld."

Shaw didn't care. Light, deep, they had been together. 

"All those years…" he uttered. The emotional tsunami that had crashed over him as the meld ended began to ebb away, but the regret still stung him at full strength. "The life we could have had together."  

"We can have a life together now," said T'Kal. 

"I'm 54," he reminded her. 

"You keep bringing up your age. Is there some concern related to it that I should be aware of?" asked T'Kal. She raised an eyebrow at him, the faintest little glint of humour in her eyes as she glanced downwards. 

"I'm not that old," said Shaw quickly. The desire to maintain the connection they had just had quickly smouldered into something else, fuelled by the longing in her eyes. 

"Are you certain? I have heard that sexual function in humans declines in later years and you do seem to be complaining a great de…" 

Shaw cut her off with a kiss, and an ardent determination to refute her point.  

*****

Seven had grown into her humanity over the course of her time since Voyager, but even so, she still found the company of vulcans to be refreshingly peaceful compared to cacophony of the more exuberant species. There was little guesswork to be done in interacting with them, no subtext to try and understand, just straightforward, usually intellectual, conversation. As she played chess with ambassador Savol, she made a mental note to write to Tuvok and Vorik; it had been too long since she’d spoken to either of the former voyager crewmen.

"Computer, update on the location of Captain Shaw and Lieutenant Commander T'Kal," asked Seven.

"Captain Shaw and Lieutenant Commander T'Kal are in holodeck 2," came the response. 

“Two hours, forty-seven minutes,” remarked Savol. He took one of her pawns from the board with his knight. “A good or bad sign, do you think?”

“He initially agreed on one hour. That they are still talking is positive, I believe,” replied Seven. "Assuming they are still talking, of course." 

*****

Patience was a virtue. It was also not one T'Kal was currently in possession of. 

The logical part of her cautioned against moving too quickly in this new relationship with Liam; several other parts of her disregarded that advice as his tongue teased hers, smooth and hot and oh-so human against her own.  

He had let them meld, and her katra sang for it. What reason was there to hold back when he'd made such a massive gesture for their future?

And what reason was there to hold back when her body cried out for his touch? Oh, she had not been chaste during the years without him, but none of her temporary lovers had made her feel the way he did, looked at her with the same desire that burned in his eyes. 

Perhaps one reason, she thought. She pulled her lips from his. 

"The holodeck?" T'Kal questioned. 

"It's locked," Shaw replied. "Nobody's going to walk in." 

"But still," she gestured at their surroundings. She was half-lying on a wooden bench beneath him, and while she didn't object to his positioning, the bench left much to be desired. "And there is the matter of after. You tend to become rather sedate, if memory serves." 

"I fell asleep one time…" said Shaw with a good natured roll of his eyes. He kissed her again, firm and closed-mouthed this time, his fingers pressing lightly against her cheek as he did so. "Will the captain's quarters suffice?"  

"They will," said T'Kal. She was smiling far more than was proper, but then, how often did one get a second chance like this? 

Shaw pulled away from her, sitting up and straightening his uniform. 

"...so?" She asked when he remained seated. 

"I need a minute," he said. "Not walking through the ship like this." He gestured towards the noticeable rise in his pants. 

"You are the captain, we could transport," suggested T'Kal, already suspecting what his answer would be. 

"It's against regs to use the transporter for unauthorized personal use," replied Shaw. 

T'Kal smiled again, unable to stop it from appearing. There would need to be a strict meditation cleanse after this excessive bout of emotionalism, but again, she considered the cause sufficient. 

"Some aspects of you have not changed," she said fondly. 

"You like those aspects," said Shaw, mirroring her smile with his own. 

"I do," agreed T'Kal. 

T'Kal held her hand up to him, her first two fingers extended and the rest curled into her palm. He looked surprised for half a second and then held his own hand up to meet the gesture. Intense affection flowed through her psionic nerves like warm honey. Shaw couldn't receive the same sensations, she knew, but he had always found it pleasurable in his own way. Maybe next time they melded she could find out how it felt for him. Next time! There would be a next time. There would be a bond, in due time. 

"I missed this," Shaw told her as he reciprocated, his fingers stroking softly down hers. "Almost forgot how it feels." 

"Let us move to your quarters, and I will refresh your memory on whatever else you may have forgotten," said T'Kal promisingly. 

"I think I have amnesia, now you mention it. Forgotten a whole bunch of stuff. Like that thing you do with your tongue. Or maybe it was your hands? Can't quite remember…" responded Shaw, playfully feigning confusion. 

T'Kal rose from the bench to leave, and Shaw followed. Just before they reached the arch, he stopped her, his hand slipping into hers. 

"Hey. Joking aside, you know we don't have to do anything, if you don't want to. We only just talked about getting back together, and I don't want to fuck this up by rushing things," he said. 

"I want to," replied T'Kal. She leaned forward and kissed him softly. His beard tickled her skin, and she raised a hand to stroke it when their mouths parted once more. "When did you decide on a beard?" 

"A few years ago. Let it grow out while I had the flu, and thought it looked alright, so I kept it," answered Shaw. "If you don't like it, just say the word, it's gone." 

"I like it," replied T'Kal. 

"Good. I mean, I would get rid of it for you, but I am kind of attached to it," admitted Shaw. 

"That is generally how they work," joked T'Kal. 

Shaw laughed and kissed her again. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer, nuzzling his face against her hair. 

"This is really happening," he murmured. 

"It is if we ever make it to your quarters," replied T'Kal. 

"I meant…" 

"I know," said T'Kal. She looked at him with undisguised affection. After so many years, how easy it was to put her hand in his, to let him press his lips against hers. Was it possible to fall in love again when you'd never fallen out of it in the first place? 

"Computer, end program," instructed Shaw. The scenery around them faded, leaving just the two of them standing before the grey doors of the exit. Shaw offered her his arm, and they left the holodeck together. 

Chapter Text

T'Kal's face fell into the perfect Vulcan mask of neutrality the moment they left the holodeck, serene and beautiful, and though Shaw had always found her default expression captivating, he couldn't wait to get her back to his room and see her smile again… amongst other things. 

Shaw resisted kissing her in the turbolift, partly out of concern they would be caught by a member of his crew, and partly because he didn't want to have to stop again. He was nearly giddy with how the evening had turned out, and half tempted to pinch himself, but if this was a dream, he definitely didn't want to wake up. 

Luck was definitely on their side tonight, in that they made it back to Shaw's quarters unhindered. The door had barely closed before T'Kal was pinning him against it, her lips claiming his with fierce vigour. 

It was a far cry from their first time. He remembered how cautiously they'd progressed that night, so many years ago, layers of clothing slowly discarded between languid kisses and gentle touches. But that had been then, when they were both younger and new to each other. Now there was no hesitation, no careful testing of each other's reactions; Only the hunger of two people desperate to reconnect. 

Shaw's uniform jacket hit the floor, quickly followed by T'Kal's, and then he was tugging the edge of her undershirt out of her pants, slipping his hands beneath it to feel the cool, smooth flesh beneath. 

T'Kal's lips moved away from his, urgent kisses trailing across his jaw, and he lifted his head to let her continue down his throat. His hands fell to her hips, and he pulled her close, pressing his rapidly stiffening cock against her so she could feel the effect she was having on him.

It was electric, intoxicating; the rush of a new encounter mixed with the knowledge of a partner who knew exactly what he liked, just where to bite at his neck to make him groan or how running her nails down the small of his back made him weak at the knees. 

Turnabout was fair play, of course. Shaw brushed T'Kal's silky black hair back behind one thickly tapered ear, running his fingers up the edge of it as he did so, and then bent his head down to capture the point gently between his teeth. T'Kal tensed in anticipation, lips parted in a frozen breath. He flicked his tongue against the tip of her ear and then sucked, the delicious torment of it coming back to him as if it had been yesterday they'd last done this. The effect was instantaneous, T'Kal's body rolling against his in surrender, her hands gripping the front of his shirt. 

He used the docile moment to push her shirt up and drag it off, letting it fall beside their jackets, and then kissed her again like he wanted to devour her. They managed to stagger their way to the bed, neither willing to break apart for longer than it took to pull off a boot or remove a belt. By the time T'Kal's back hit the mattress, they had made far too little progress in undressing for either of their liking, both still woefully fully dressed from the waist down, barring footwear, and Shaw's shirt still on. 

T'Kal quickly moved to solve the latter, reaching over his shoulders to pull the offending garment up his back. Before she could complete her task, the door chimed, and Shaw growled his annoyance at the interruption. 

"Don't come," he called. T'Kal gave a quiet snort, and raised her eyebrows at him. "Not you," he added with a dirty grin, and kissed her. 

The door chime went off again, and Shaw groaned, and rested his forehead against T'Kal's. Why now?! 

"Go away!" He turned his head and shouted. Again, the chime sounded. "Fuck sake…" he muttered angrily and reluctantly climbed off of the bed. He gave T'Kal an apologetic shrug and she nodded her head in understanding and scrambled under his blanket to hide her partially undressed body.

Shaw grabbed his bathrobe from his closet, hoping it would hide his erection, and made his way to the door. The chime rang again in the time it took him to reach it, and he slapped the controls, trying his best not to look as though he was sulking. 

Seven was waiting on the other side. 

"What?" He snapped. She looked slightly taken aback, and he immediately felt bad. "Sorry. But seriously, what?" 

"You left the holodeck. I wanted to see how your talk with T'Kal went," explained Seven. 

"It went great. I owe you one," said Shaw quickly. "Now if you don't mind, can we talk about this later?" 

Seven seemed surprised at the answer, and then her eyes fell to his shoulders and the bathrobe on them, and then over them to his room. He shifted sideways slightly to try and hide T'Kal from her view.  

"I see," she said, a slight smile that was somewhere between amusement and disapproval appearing on her face. 

"Just go away, Seven," said Shaw, exasperated. 

"Yes, Sir," she replied, and turned to leave. 

"You have the conn until further notice, Commander," added Shaw, and then closed the door. 

He sighed and made his way back to the bed, chucking his bathrobe over a chair and pulling off his shirt as he went. 

"Computer, mute all but emergency communications for the next… 9 hours," said Shaw, quickly calculating how long he could realistically be unavailable for. 

"A rather generous estimate," said T'Kal, throwing the bed covers off of her. 

"I'm not giving up a second more of my time with you than I have to," said Shaw. He knelt on the bed, one of his knees between her thighs, and leaned over her, hands coming to rest either side of her shoulders. "Sorry about the interruption." 

One of T'Kal's hands found his left hip, and the other combed through the back of his hair and guided him down to where her lips could find his again. Her tongue was slightly rough: normal for a Vulcan but Shaw had always found it a turn-on. Now it did more than just arouse him; the familiarity of her kiss drove him wild, the feel of her body beneath his waking memories he had long since buried in an unsuccessful bid to stop himself from missing her. 

With a slight push on one of his shoulders, T'Kal had him on his back, and he looked up at her in quiet awe as she straddled his hips and seated herself above him, his erection pressing against her through his pants. So damn beautiful.  

"So far I am not detecting any decline in sexual function," she teased him, and ground down almost imperceptibly against his cock. 

"T'Kal…" he groaned. "Pants. Off. Now." 

"Although perhaps you have become slightly more impatient with age," she replied. 

"I'm impatient… " said Shaw, sitting up and wrapping his arms around her. "Because it's been seventeen years!" 

"Surely you have not been celibate since our separation?" Questioned T'Kal. 

"I wasn't," he replied. He raised a hand to her face, cupping one side of her jaw in his palm, and ran his thumb across her cheek. "But none of them were you." 

She gave a pleased hum, and kissed him again, deft tongue drawing a muffled moan from him. He moved his hand higher up her back and found the clasp of her bra, pinching it undone with a well-practised hand. Tipping her back slightly made her press harder against the constrained bulge in his pants, but he did his best to ignore it as he kissed his way down her chest, slipping her bra off of her as he went. He managed to get his legs out from under her, and by the time his mouth closed around one stiff, dark nipple, T'Kal was lying underneath him again as he lent on his knees and forearms, albeit both of them facing the wrong end of the bed, T'Kal's feet kicking his pillows aside to make room. 

She was quiet - always had been, at least at the start - but the way her fingers threaded through his hair and urged him on told him enough. One particularly firm suck had her arching against him, a light gasp escaping her lips. He released her breast from his mouth, and paused to admire the green flush that bloomed beneath her skin for a moment before he kissed his way over to the over. He brushed his cheek carefully against the gentle rise of her breast and heard her sigh in pleasure. 

"The beard stays," she uttered quietly, and Shaw laughed and planted a firm kiss in the middle of her chest. 

"You haven't even had the best of it yet," he said. T'Kal raised her head to look down at him, and he winked at her. 

If he could have gotten the rest of her clothes off any faster, he'd have broken regulations to do it. Shaw wasn't exactly a selfish lover - he made damn sure his partners enjoyed themselves - but he couldn't remember the last time his own pleasure had been such an afterthought for him. Well, no, that wasn't quite true, this was a pleasure for him; but the hard-on in his pants was practically an inconvenience right now, the sensation that throbbed through him as it strained against his clothing an annoying distraction from his goal. 

He could have teased her, kissed his way down her gloriously firm legs as he slipped her Starfleet regulation underwear down to her feet, or nibbled at that sensitive little spot above her left ankle, but T'Kal was right: he was impatient. Instead, Shaw stripped her as hastily as he could and immediately buried his face between her thighs, desperate to taste her again.

Sweet merciful heaven, he'd missed this. Nothing, nothing, in the entire fucking galaxy was better than going down on his woman; his woman! His mind roared the thought, dizzy with happiness that it was true. 

It wasn't just her scent, her flavour, the soft folds of her sex that he traced with his tongue,  it was her, all of her, the way she broke beneath his mouth: She held out at first, stern Vulcan resolve not permitting more than those breathy little gasps and a single restrained rock of her hips against his face. Shaw shook his head lightly, rubbing the inside of her thighs with his beard before pressing forward again to spread her open with a wide lap of his tongue, barely grazing the sensitive cluster of nerves at the height of her valley, and there was the first truly verbal noise from her, a single little vowel of enjoyment. 

Shaw wrapped his hands around her thighs, pushing them up to widen his access and got to work, feasting on her dripping core like a man starved. Her control crumbled away with every passing second until she was moaning aloud, his name like a prayer on her lips, interspersed with wordless cries of rapture. He let go of one thigh to slip a finger inside her, then two, and felt her squeeze around them. The sensation went straight to his dick, and for the first time in several minutes, he wished he'd gotten rid of his own clothes before he'd started. The only relief he could give himself was to quickly undo his pants, and let his leaking cock spring free, bobbing untouched in the space between his torso and the bed where he was up on his knees.

He went back to T'Kal, fingers slipping inside her again and searching upwards for the spot that would make her come apart entirely as his tongue circled her clit. She was close: he remembered the signs. The steady rhythm of her clenching and loosening on his fingers, her legs trembling around his head, the way any silence between her moans disappeared, becoming one long unbroken chain of "Liam, oh, Liam, right there, yes, yes, yesyesYES…." 

She gushed when she came, a slick flood of arousal spilling around Shaw's fingers, and he quickly withdrew them to press his mouth to her and catch what he could, drunk on the taste of her. He revelled in the way she twitched beneath him as he drew out her orgasm, teasing her oversensitive clit until her hand pushed gently on his head, urging him to stop.

Shaw pressed a soft kiss to the side of her thigh, and moved up, placing another just below her navel, and a third between her small, firm breasts, taking a particular pride in the way her chest heaved with each panting breath. It took a lot to make a Vulcan need rest; he was grinning like a smug dipshit when he finally reached her face, and kissed her on the cheek. 

"Hi," he smiled at her. 

"Hello," she replied, and kissed him, unperturbed by the presence of her own fluids on his beard and lips. "I have missed you." 

"Talking to me, or just my tongue?" asked Shaw, still grinning. 

"Both," replied T'Kal, the slight rise of her eyebrows indicating she was joking. She kissed him again, soft and sweet, and rubbed her nose lightly against his as they parted. "Ashayam? " 

"Yeah?" 

"Lose the pants," she instructed, and rubbed the sole of her foot against the back of his still-clothed calf for emphasis. 

"Thought you'd never ask," said Shaw. 

He climbed off of her, and finished undressing, pants, underpants and socks quickly discarded with zero consideration as to where they landed.

"You seem to have gotten yourself into quite the state," said T'Kal, the low smoothness in her voice sending a thrill through him. She sat up and ran a single finger up the length of his erection, gazing up at him with those big brown eyes he loved so much. 

T'Kal pressed the lightest of kisses to the head of his cock, and a pleasurable shudder ran through his entire body like lightning. 

"Don't…" he managed to utter just as she opened her mouth to take him. She looked up at him questioningly. "Maybe some things have changed with age," he admitted sheepishly. "You do that, and I'm out of action for at least an hour. Right now, I just want to make love to you." 

She rose up on her knees, arms coming up around his neck to pull him close and kiss him again. He could lose himself in the soft press of her lips, the warm flick of her tongue exploring his mouth, the feel of her body against his own. Dimly he wondered what the future held for them, how they would make it work with their separate postings… he pushed the thought away. Later!

He wrapped his arms around her and lowered them both back down to the mattress, the right way this time (although with his pillows and bed covers now scattered over the floor, it made little difference). They fit so well together, his hips slotting between her thighs like they were made for each other. He wasn't even in her yet, and he was damn near overwhelmed by her. 

"I love you." He said it plainly, no whispers or coyness, his eyes fixed on hers. 

"Likewise," she replied, giving him that secret little smile. He liked to think nobody else had ever seen it, that it was just his. 

T'Kal reached down between them and wrapped her fingers around his cock, giving him a few firm, long strokes before guiding him to her entrance. 

Entering her was like coming home; Shaw watched T'Kal's face as he sank inside her, savouring every little change in her expression as her body welcomed him in, slick, plush walls parting around his hardness. He took his time, inch by inch slowly pressing into her, stealing the breath from his lungs with how good it felt; how right. 

It was T'Kal's patience that wore out first, her legs rising to wrap around him and urge him on. He followed her lead, letting the press of her feet against his ass and the roll of her hips against his guide their pace. 

He brought their mouths together in a messy yet satisfying clash of tongue and teeth, and then buried his face against her shoulder as he drove into her again and again, control and coherent thoughts fleeing in the indescribable joy of their union. 

He never wanted it to end, but it had been a while, and it felt so good… he slowed, trying his best to stop the inevitable from happening, and kissed the side of T'Kal's face, nuzzling into the soft mass of her hair. The slightest nip of her sensitive ears had her clenching tight around him and he moaned her name. 

"Don't stop," T'Kal urged. 

"I'm real close," he warned her. 

"Is that not the point?" She said, a hint of amusement in her tone. 

"Want more," he responded. It wasn't the most articulate explanation, but he knew she'd understand. 

"In an hour or so, perhaps," said T'Kal teasingly. 

He felt her body flex underneath him and a second later, she had rolled them both over like it was nothing and he was on his back, T'Kal laying atop him, and his cock still sheathed within her. 

"Fuck, I forgot you could do that," he laughed. 

"I did promise to refresh your memory," said T'Kal. 

She started moving, and Shaw gave up any hope of lasting. The sight of her riding him would have been enough to get him there even without the feeling of the tight, wet glide of her all around his length. He reached for her, desperately needing to touch her anywhere, everywhere, hands stroking over her hips, her thighs, her breasts, her waist, mapping every part of her he could reach. This: her, him, for the rest of his life… 

"Oh god, T'Kal…" he breathed as he felt that familiar tightening. His fingers dug lightly into her ass, as if he could have any effect on the way she moved, and he thrust up to meet her, giving in to the rush that waited just beyond the next rise and fall. 

Ecstasy claimed him in seconds, mind going blank as he came. T'Kal rode him through it in perfect, steady motions, her own soft moan sending another ripple of pleasure through him as he filled her, the heat of his cum slicking their already well-lubricated movements. 

T'Kal slowed to a stop, and he stared up at her in a blissful daze, with what was, no doubt, his most idiotic smile to date plastered across his face. She lent down to kiss him, and he wrapped his arms around her, keeping her pulled close against him, and shifted, tipping them both onto their sides.  

"You good?" He asked when he could finally muster some semblance of intelligent thought. 

"Very," she replied, and stole another kiss. Her fingers traced across his face gently, and Shaw turned his head to kiss them. He loathed to do anything to disturb their peace, but as his heart rate slowed and the euphoric rush faded away, his desire for order and planning out the future reasserted itself. 

"What happens now, T'Kal?" He asked hesitantly. 

"I believe we cuddle and you inevitably fall asleep before I do," said T'Kal. 

"That's not what I meant," he said, although he couldn't help but smile. When was the last time he'd smiled this much, for this long? Probably the last time he'd held her like this, he reflected. "You leave in three days." 

"I do," she said with a note of regret. "You spoke of retirement at the welcoming banquet?" 

"Yeah, in a few years," said Shaw. Truthfully, he'd had mixed feelings about that, but with T'Kal in his arms, retirement was far more appealing than it had been. "Suddenly it seems like way too far away." 

"Perhaps it is for the best," said T'Kal. "It will give us some time to re-establish our relationship." 

"From half a quadrant away," pouted Shaw. 

"We will manage," said T'Kal. "We have waited this long." 

"Precisely why I don't want to wait any more," argued Shaw. He sighed. "I guess we don't have much of a choice." 

"It would seem not," agreed T'Kal. "But some things are worth the wait." 

"Yeah. Yeah they are," agreed Shaw. 

Chapter Text

It was illogical to believe that time could pass in any manner other than its defined parameters, and yet somehow, three days passed by far too quickly, and all too soon, T'Kal was running her last checks on the security protocols in place at the conference they would be beaming down to. 

She was grateful to Ambassador Savol, both for his interference in insisting she and Liam talk to one another, and for his lax dismissal of her duties during their stay aboard the Titan, but now the true work lay ahead of her, and her personal life would have to wait. 

The chime of the door heralded their escort to the transporter room, and T'Kal steeled herself for the inevitable farewell. 

"Captain, Commander," Savol greeted them. 

"Ambassador," nodded Liam. He looked at T'Kal. "Lieutenant Commander." 

Seven rolled her eyes beside him, a slight smile on her face. 

"Are you ready to depart?" Seven asked Savol. 

"We are, although I sense some reluctance from my chief of security," said Savol, almost in jest. "Perhaps you would do me the honour of walking ahead with me, commander?" 

"Certainly," replied Seven. 

"Thank you, Ambassador," said Liam, nodding gratefully at Savol. "For everything." 

"I have no idea what you mean, Captain," he replied airily. He offered his arm to Seven. "Shall we?" 

T'Kal fought to conceal a smile as the ambassador and Commander Seven left the room, granting her and Liam a few final moments of privacy. 

His arms were around her the moment the door closed, hugging her close. She indulged him for a moment, resting her head against his shoulder and breathing in the scent of him, before taking a step back, her fingers laced through his. 

"12 weeks," she reminded him. They had done a very thorough comparison of their work schedules and found every possible compatible moment to see each other in person. 

"Too fucking long," lamented Liam. He brought his hands up, cradling her face in his palms, and stroked his thumb across one of her cheekbones. "I love you."

"Likewise," said T'Kal. She loved the way his eyes lit up in response.   

"Listen, I know we've still got some work to do here, and I'm not saying we need to start sending out invites or anything, but…" Liam let go of her, and drew something out of his pocket. He held it up to her inspection. 

"Yes," said T'Kal immediately. 

"Should I…?" He gestured vaguely at the floor. 

"If you are sure your ageing knees can take it," joked T'Kal. The last three days had proven that he was as adept as ever at the more physical aspects of their relationship, despite his concerns. 

He took her hand, and knelt, only one of his knees making contact with the floor. 

"T'Lscai S'Mazhiz T'Kal…" he said carefully. 

"Well done," she interjected. Vulcan clan names were quite difficult for the human tongue to pronounce, but he had done a passable job, just as he had the first time, 19 years ago. 

"Let me finish!" laughed Liam, looking up at her with pure adoration in his eyes. "Will you eventually marry…no: bond with me?" 

"Yes," she said simply, and he slipped her engagement ring onto her finger; The same one she had once left behind in their shared quarters aboard the USS Indianapolis. 

T'Kal helped him to his feet (not that he needed it) and kissed him, firm and quick, wishing they had more time than this. 

"Knew there was a reason I kept it," said Liam, touching the band on her finger. They shared one more hasty, yearning kiss and then reluctantly pulled apart. "I guess we should head out." 

"The ambassador has been most accommodating; we should not keep him waiting," agreed T'Kal. 

They walked to the transporter room in comfortable silence, Liam's first two fingers curled proudly around hers, utterly uncaring of the surprised expressions on the faces of his crew as they passed them. 

T'Kal let go of his hand to board the transporter pad, and turned to face him. The stark contrast between the last time she'd left him was not lost on her; this was not an ending, and there would be no regrets.   

"Goodbye, Captain Shaw," T'Kal said lightly, confident he would see the smile in her eyes, even if her mouth maintained proper discipline. 

"See you soon, Lieutenant Commander T'Kal," corrected Liam.