Jigsaw

Short Compound grounds

Jared was doing his best to draw Lee out. The slender blond teen seemed not to be able to accept that people would like him just as he was, not expect him to conform to 'what a boy is supposed to be'. The job was made no easier by Lonnie's hero worship of the Clan and everything Clan-related.

Mickey noticed. Gesturing to Raffy to join him, he called out, "Hey, Lonnie! Wanna see the Compound?"

"Wow! Yeah!"

They made the grand tour of the campus. The sprawling house, nominally in Teri's name, that was shared by the Clan parents and adult guests, did not overly impress him except for the size. The indoor swimming pool with apartments above it did; he was shocked to see kids skinny-dipping. He was impressed by the C.I.C. building.

But what really startled him was the houses for the Clan couples with kids. "They're, like, Lee's age, and they have their own house? And kids?"

"Yep," Mickey said. "You know, Raffy and I, and Jared, own two houses ourselves?"

"Really?" Lonnie was wide-eyed.

"Yep, the one we're living in down here — subject to Sylvia having shared life tenancy of it with us. She sold it to us on that condition. And we inherited our parents' place up north. We're going up over the weekend for a visit."

They passed Mr. T and his father, Chief Tecumseh, walking briskly from the F.Y.S. building towards the parking lot. Raffy called out, "Hi, Chief! Hi, Mr. T." Smiling, the two Seminoles stopped to greet them. Mickey did introductions.

"Lonnie Carlson?" Mr. T asked. "Is your father by any chance Ensign Gary Carlson?" With a proud smile, Lonnie said he was. "I worked with him when S-, um, when we were ensuring the safety of one of the boys at the Camp. He's a good man."

Looking southeast, the Chief said, "We must hurry. It will rain in a few hours."

Looking at the near-cloudless sky, Raffy asked, "How d'you know that? Something carried on the air?"

With a twinkle in his eye, the Chief said, "You could say that: the Weather Channel."

"Nothing critical, I hope?" Mickey asked, gesturing at the building the Seminoles had come from.

"No, just some routine paperwork that Sara had ready for us, that required my signature or Derek's," the Chief replied.

"You shouldn’t ‘a needed to come over," Raffy said. "We coulda got it couriered over."

"I know; we chose to, for a breather," Mr. T said. "The children are all providing help, each in his own way, and the staff is doing what they can to make it happen. We were not needed there at the moment, and we ourselves needed a break from the Camp."

"All right, then," Mickey said. "You know you can always ask for more help as needed."

"We do indeed," the Chief said. "The Clan and F.Y.S. have been most generous; now is the time to repay that, with help where it is needed. The Great Spirit watches over us." He smiled, and turned to leave.

As the two men walked away, Lonnie asked, "What was that all about?"

"Oh, the Chief runs Camp Little Eagle, and Mr. T — that's his son — is the head teacher there. That's where we go to school. Mostly, though, classes are canceled this week because of all the stuff that's happened," Mickey explained.

"But why'd it sound like you and Raffy were kinda telling him stuff to do?"

"Oh, that's 'cause our Clan set the camp up," Raffy explained. "They kinda like work for us."

"Camp Little Eagle was the first Clan-sponsored residence for homeless and abused kids," Mickey amplified. "Cory spoke for Vulcan and the Chief for the Seminole Nation in negotiating the treaty that established it. Now, of course, we've got Camp Bam Bam out West, where the Unit is located, and we're starting up some other ones too."

"It was only logical," Raffy said in a Vulcan-ish tone, "that we make sure they had what they needed."

"It's kinda startling when you do that," Lonnie said, "or like yesterday when you passed judgment on those guys."

"It comes naturally, once you've hung out with the Clan for a while, and gotten the mind dump," Mickey said. "You know when you need to operate with Vulcan logic, and when you can just kick back and be yourself."

Raffy grinned. "It's like getting the best parts of being a kid and a grown-up. Mosta the time Mickey tells me what to do, 'cause I'm his little brother and he's my guardian. But when your Dad asked me what needed to happen to those kids, 'cause I came up with the idea of using the Charter, it was like, I just slipped into logical mode, and asked myself, 'What would Cory do?' and then did it."

"And then you went home and had a burping contest with C.J." Mickey said with a grin.

Raffy grinned back. "Yep, and I won!"

 

---

 

Jamie and Jacob came skidding to a stop where Jonas was showing Kelly and Micah Jeffries from Camp Little Eagle some of the ways he had learned to run pass plays in J.V. football (American style, that is). Harry was proudly watching his boyfriend while Clint and Philip attempted to block or intercept him, and Skipper was throwing the passes for Jonas to receive.

"Hey, guys, we got told we were needed here," Jamie said. Drew and Randy, who had been helping some of the Tribe build a rather complex toy-trucks track, came running over, and pounced them. As the pile of twins disentangled itself, the impromptu football session came to a halt.

"Barbecue sauce?" Jamie giggled, scanning their minds.

"And you made a fuss about me telling people how to tell us apart?" Jacob teased his twin.

"Will everybody stop with the barbecue sauce remarks?" commented a red-faced Harry to nobody in particular.

"Guys," Jamie said, turning serious, "sit down and let us help you sort this stuff."

"You too," Jacob said to the twins. "You can learn how we do this, and we need to check and make sure your forgetting to put it in the rooms right away didn't hurt you."

"Look here, guys," Jamie said to the twins as he checked them over.

"Mmmm," Randy purred as he got the expression on his face that normally comes from a good comforting cuddle.

"Got it!" Drew said. "Me too," Randy added between sighs of contentment. Seconds later, Drew had the same expression, but without the sound effects.

"Huh? What're you doing?" said a concerned Philip.

"The memories of what you guys did this morning — well, Drew 'n' Randy didn't think to put them in the 'rooms' the way they shoulda, 'cause of the impact of all the stuff they found out at once. It wasn't like Tony, where they knew what to expect when they went in; they had to be ready for anything they Read, and they forgot to process stuff for their own safety right after they Read it," Jamie explained.

"So what we did was, we tied those memories to the times when you were holding them after they got hurt by your ex-parents, up in your room," Jacob went on. "So now, whenever they have to think about the execution, it'll feel like you're holding them and comforting them."

"'S not as effective as having put the stuff in the rooms when they shoulda, but it's a satisfactory fix for the hurt," Jamie added.

"So in their minds, it's just like I'd picked them up and held them while they were hurting?" Philip asked.

"You got it," Jacob said with a smile, as Jamie said, more simply, 'Yeah."

The Wonder Twins then turned to the three teens. "Siddown," they said together, in a kindly but firm voice that sounded out of place from ten-year-olds addressing teenagers.

The three boys sat.

"Okay," said Jamie. "I want you to think about something that happened when you were a kid. Something where you know you did the right thing, but got hurt or punished in some way anyways."

Each of the teens' eyes closed and their faces smoothed as they remembered.

"You want us to tell what it was?" asked Harry, nervously.

"Nope," Jacob said.

"We've got it — and it's nobody else's business but yours," Jamie added. "In fact, when we're done with it, it goes in our 'Read Only in Emergencies' room; we'll forget about it unless you bring it up."

"All right," Jacob said. "Now, think about what you learned about Vulcan logic in your training."

"Got it," Harry and Jonas echoed. Philip had a puzzled expression.

"He wasn't trained in Orlando," Harry said. "I'll explain; help him have a 'Eureka' moment," he said at Jamie and Jacob.

"Our job," said Drew as Randy shook his head vigorously. The older twins nodded in acquiescence.

"All right," said Harry. "Philip, there's a Vulcan word, c'thia. It encapsulates what you need to know. Think about 'love' or 'spirit' — all the different things it can mean, and more importantly, how they tie together to make something bigger than the different meanings." He paused. "This is important," he said, as Philip struggled with the concept. He nodded. "Okay, to a Vulcan c'thia means the world as it is, accurate knowledge about how the world is put together. And it means logic.... Vulcan logic, not just 'A implies B'. Got it? To a Vulcan, how the world works and logic are two sides to the same coin; do you see it?" Philip looked puzzled, then grinned, with the sort of expression that goes with 'a light bulb went on over his head'.

Harry said, "You're not done. Now, take that idea, and add to it the idea of making right judgments. Judgments that are morally right and logical and fit the way the world is. It means that, too. To a Vulcan, they're all three the different sides of the same thing." Philip caught it, and was beaming.

"Okay," Jacob went on. "Now what we're going to do is take down the blocks the U.T. put up. Remember what it felt like when you did the right thing and got hurt or punished anyway. Then remember c'thia — that you judged in accordance with how the world really goes together, logically, and morally right. Ready?" The three boys nodded.

What happened next was a little surreal — as if someone had done time-lapse photography of a Method Acting school they were enrolled in, then ran it speeded up. Across their faces played shock, anger, pain, grief, guilt, resoluteness, and finally calm acceptance. The four twins were concentrating, guiding them through processing the feelings and learning to cope with them.

At last Jamie said, "Best we can do."

Jonas smiled and said, "Thanks," including the other four in his gesture. "That helped a lot."

 

---

 

Quincy Street, Boston

"Well, well, what do we have here?" The cop's tone of false jolliness wrote an obituary to all Pat's surviving hopes and dreams, such as they were. "Four kids, not in school, in an apartment with almost no furniture and power from an extension cord run to another apartment. Looks to me like a runaways' hideout."

"Well, um, our mother..." Benny began glibly to sketch out a plausible explanation for why they were there.

"Save it, kid," the policeman said, not unkindly. "It's my job to take you in, make sure someone has custody of you. If there's any truth to what you were going to tell me, get out some paper and write her a note saying where I took you. I'll give you the location."

Benny didn't move. He'd been caught out, and it was pointless — nobody would follow up on them. Blakey made as if to run, for the back door. The cop smiled mirthlessly. "You don't think we didn't put somebody to watch the back here?"

"Okay, kids," he said. "I'm not an idiot. I imagine you had good reasons to run, and it would take a real fool not to understand why no kid willingly trusts himself to our city's juvenile system. But we do have a few decent group homes, ones where you can be comfortable in, where you won't get beat up or molested. You're guilty of trespassing right now, and of being juveniles not in the custodial care of a parent or other adult, and I'll bet I can find several other charges if I need to." He paused and essayed a smile. "So give me a break, and catch yourselves one too: come along quietly and don't try to run, and I'll do what I can to make sure you get somewhere halfway decent."

"Yeah, right," Benny answered him, sarcasm dripping from his voice. "Last time I trusted a cop, I bled from the butt for a week."

That shocked the cop. "I don't swing that way, kid," he said. He drew a breath. "Look, I got a job to do, what I pledged to do when I put on this uniform and badge. That includes taking you boys in, yeah, but it also includes making sure you don't get screwed over by the system, if I can." He thought for a second; the only sounds were Pat's pulse beating loudly in his ear, and Tory's terrified snuffling. "I can't come up with any reason why you ought to trust me, from your perspective," he said at last. "I know I'm doing the right thing, but we're taught to try to think like a burglar when we're trying to catch one, like a fugitive when we're after somebody on the run, and so on. And trying to think like you guys, I don't see it." He gave them a thin smile. "So let me offer you this: whatever you guys do to take care of yourselves has got to include making deals, right?" Four nervous nods. "So I'll offer you a deal — cooperate with me, and come along while I do what I have to; don't run and make me chase you. And in return, I'll do what I can to make sure that you don't get dumped somewhere you'll hate, that you go somewhere you can at least tolerate instead." He reached out a hand. "You'll get caught if you run; you know that. So that's not a realistic option for you any more. Is it a deal?"

Nervously, one by one, the boys stepped forward and shook.

 

---

 

In a quiet spot outside C.I.C.

"Come on over here, guys." Brandon and Andy looked nervously at the speaker, a very skinny boy with dark brown hair and eyes seemingly about Andy's age. Knowing who it was, Skipper smiled and encouraged them forward.

They settled tensely down on the grass, keeping their distance from the boy, fearful of anything new. He looked at them in turn.

"Hey, Andy, Brandon," he said. "I know about what your grandpa did. My stepfather was just as bad, if not worse. And I felt just like you feel right now."

"How d'you know?" Andy asked.

"I can tell," Kyle said knowingly.

"That's our Brain Leech," J.J. said with a grin, looking on from a short distance.

"Lissen, when my Mom got killed in the accident and they put me in the Home, I thought it was all over, that there wasn't anybody I could trust or who would care," Kyle said. "Then I met that guy over there," he gestured at J.J. "And I just knew... the way you guys can tell you can trust Skipper and Bobby." Their eyes, downcast until then, locked on his.

"But that was just the start of it," he said. "The other guy in the Home that I thought was 'safe', somebody I didn't have to be on my guard around, well... J.J. and I got to know him and his brother a lot better . You saw him earlier, up on the stage." The boys' eyes asked wordless questions.

"Fleet Commander Cory Patrick Short, Patriarch of Family Clan Short, High Councilor of Vulcan," Kyle giggled, "as of this afternoon. And my first friend, back when neither of us knew what was gonna happen to us. And for me, that's more important than all the stuff he's gotten since. 'Cause they're all stuff he does, but that's who he is." Kyle's earnest voice was willing them to believe.

"But that was just the start," Kyle went on. "We found out that angels could talk through me, and I could call them. Then all the mind-reading stuff I could do, that was 'cause I was descended from the Founders. You'll learn about them later. And then my genes turned me into this." He stopped talking, concentrated for a second, and transformed some sunlight into two Fudgesicles, handing one to each brother. They looked on wide-eyed. "Go ahead, eat 'em before they melt," he said.

"Reason I'm telling you all this is, you don't know what you're going to become yet, and you're scared that the same crap that was hurting you will come back," he said. "It's not; none of us will let it. These two..." he gestured at Skipper and Bobby... "they've been through it too, and they'll protect you. Jonas, the guy who brought you back from Utah, and his partner Harry, if there's a logical reason why they should — and protecting you guys is included in that logic — they can have a whole starship full of people to help you, just by saying so. And imagination is the only limit to what you two, yourselves, can become. C'mon!" The three of them vanished; Bobby tensed up, startled and angry. J.J. smiled and motioned him to wait.

Ten seconds later they were back, giggling and clearly happier. Brandon had a handful of long loose red fur. "Millie sure appreciated the grooming!" Kyle giggled. Brandon's eyes were wide "She was big, huge..." "Mammoth," Kyle laughed. He yelled out, "Hey, Timmy!"

As the little redhead came running over, Kyle gestured a grinning Andy forward. He reached in his pockets and drew out two small things. "Put 'em in your aquarium, they don't like being out of the water," he said gravely to Timmy.

"Trilobites! Kewl!" Timmy said, taking them and starting to run off. He paused and turned. "Hey, thanks!" he called back.

The broad grin on Andy's face was answer enough.

 

---

 

"I need a Vulcan!" Kenny called out as he ran into C.I.C.

"I thought it was your brothers who needed Vulcans," giggled Justy. "What's up, bro?"

"Gabe gave me a call, said to try to find one of the Vulcans and have 'im meet Jamie and Jacob with the guys from up north in Maine," he answered.

Through the other doors came Trip Tucker and his wife, T'Pol, with Trip chuckling as he sang quietly under his breath, "It was a two-eyed always-horny Purple-Winged Patriarch," looking over the Short Compound on their first visit.

"What is this about needing a Vulcan?" T'Pol asked.

"Um, they need Grandfather Sarek or Uncle Spock or somebody to do a mind-meld, Aunt T'Pol," Justy said.

"Why?" she asked.

"Well, Grandfather sent them to investigate one of the churches suspected of having sent the men who tried to kill SamSam and them," Justy explained. "It turned out to be a capital case. Grandfather always arranges for someone from the Embassy to do a mind-meld afterwards, to help them deal with having to execute the guilty — and according to the twins, he never showed up! They say the guys were pretty messed up by it."

T'Pol reached up and touched her ears. "I believe I qualify as a Vulcan," she said dryly. "And I have been doing mind-melds for nearly a hundred years now, when they are needed. Lead on, my nephew!"

 

---

 

Trip and T'Pol walked with Justy to where Jamie and Jacob were sitting with the five boys from Maine, having just completed their work in the boys' minds. She gave a rare smile at them. "Show me what you have done to help them," she said gently, reaching out her hands to rest one on the Dodds twins' foreheads. They squirmed and giggled a bit at the touch, then collected themselves and got serious. Both of her eyebrows flew up her forehead. "Intriguing!" she said. She proceeded to receive their report of what they had done. "A good mind healing," she said, "considering your inexperience at it."

Turning to the Maine boys, she said, "May I meld with you to ratify and complete what the twins did?"

Philip looked nervous. Jonas reached out a hand and rested it on his friend's shoulder; the Wentworth twins snuggled up to their big brother. After making eye contact with Philip and then Harry, Jonas announced their collective agreement. "Sure. We could use that."

T'Pol gave him another smile, sensing their Human need for reassurance. She reached out her hands to his temples. "My mind to your mind..." she said, beginning the time-honored formula.

 

---

 

T'Pol stood with a younger Jonas in the house on High Street. With him, she felt what it was like to be a fatherless boy, raised by an independent mother to be a self-reliant and caring person. Through his later childhood and teen years, Josiah loomed as an occasional presence in his life, the father figure he had wanted, but not completely there, caring and yet maintaining the distance that honored Maureen's need to prove herself to the world. With him, she saw his need to excel, to test himself, acted out in sports, his awakening interest in girls, his furtive fooling around with other boys.... Through it all, one thing besides Maureen was constant, his friendship with the other fatherless boy from down the street — Harry.

Then came the fateful pickup basketball game at the town playground, his seeing Jed and C.J. hiding in the bushes, the changes that deciding to help them had brought about in his life. Then the attack on Saturday, fighting for his life and that of his family and friends against the men from the F.C.C., the realization of what Harry really meant to him, and the events since then. And finally, sitting in judgment over the pastor and elders in Worcester, and the feelings that had engendered.

She gently helped him smooth out the jumble of emotions left over from that, which the twins had helped him process, gave him a framework for understanding his role in what had happened, and left him with one thought — one that would not come out for some time, but which he clung to.

As she withdrew from the mind meld, Jonas was surprised to find himself still sitting on the grass at the Compound. "How long has it been?" he asked.

"Less than five minutes," an anxious Harry replied.

"It felt like we were doing that for hours," Jonas commented.

"The speed of thought," Trip said with a broad smile. "I'm always surprised, when we conclude a meld, how little time has passed in the outside world." T'Pol looked lovingly at him.

 

---

 

Philip cowered from the anger in Jordan and Mary Eccles' eyes. T'Pol was a ghostly figure at the little boy's side. "Strength," she said wordlessly to him. "Endurance. This too shall pass."

And Philip remembered her presence, lending him strength and helping him survive, back in the dark days he had gone through. "How?" he asked in his mind.

"I do not know," T'Pol answered him, equally awed. "But remember that some of your sworn brothers, who love you, are masters of Time. It may be that they sent my gift of strength and endurance to you back in time, to enable you to survive and to hope."

Fortified by her gift, Philip methodically tapped down the covers on the boxes that were his image of locking away the pain and sense of worthlessness that were his 'gift' from his former adoptive parents, and began the examination of the things he had overheard his former father say and do over the telephone and by computer.

T'Pol said to him, "It is your task, your rightful role, to unveil all this, at the proper times. But know that you have the power and authority of Vulcan behind you always as you do."

In his mind, Philip smiled wanly up at her. "I know my task, and I will do it," he said.

Together, they turned to the events of that morning, and efficiently dealt with Philip's feelings as they had with his years of abuse.

 

---

 

Together, T'Pol and Harry sat on the rock overlooking the stream, Harry's "thinking place" in years gone by, and watched the water flow. She saw the shyness, the sense of being a misfit, out of place, that had haunted him. She watched as the deep friendship he shared with Jonas turned to love. She chuckled at his mother's caustic wit, her fiercely protective attitude towards her only son, and then as Rachel did everything in her 13-year-old power to make Harry notice her as a girl and it all went by Harry uncomprehendingly. Then … his love of music, the chance that he might actually fit in, playing bass for a 'garage band,' their big chance in Bangor, meeting Zac Hanson, and the collapse of that dream as the band broke up. Then came scenes she recognized from Jonas's meld, Harry's role in rescuing Jed and C.J., his elation when it seemed like Jonas might actually be in love with him, his depression when Tanya came into the picture. Then the events of Saturday, Jonas's proposal and how Harry had reacted to it, and their building of a commitment. She shared Harry's elation at being a part of something as big and as loving and as meaningful as the Clan. And she caught Harry's depression on Tuesday as he watched Sean and Cory marry, hours after his and Jonas's own application for a marriage license had been rejected by the Town Clerk. T'Pol filed that information away, guided by a sense she had grown accustomed to feeling over the years in mind-melds, in this case that her Patriarch and his heir needed to know about it. Finally they came up to the familiar scenes in Worcester, and Harry's mixed bag of feelings at having been a part of a capital trial and execution.

"You know, do you not, that you are important in a lot of ways?" she asked.

"Me? No, I'm not important."

"Yes, you are. First, though I have no fondness for rock music, you do have some musical skill. And you are fast with a phaser — something that has saved lives you care about more than once. But more importantly, you do not see how Jonas depends on you."

Turning his eyes from the water flowing below, Harry looked at her.

"You are his source of strength, just as he is yours. You are the inventive, analytical mind; he is the snap decision maker, with good fast judgment. Together you make a whole. Separately, each needs something that only the other has. And without the unquestioning loyalty of his best friend, Jonas would have given up more than once over the years. He relies on you, Harry — just as you rely on him. Rejoice in that interdependence — it is the foundation on which a strong marriage is built. Trust me; I know. Trip and I each give the other something he needs and does not have. So, I intuit, it will be for you and Jonas."

Harry began to smile.

 

---

 

Skipper and Bobby were walking down toward the playing fields when they were pleasantly surprised to see Jondo, now known to actually be Jimmy Casey, come pelting toward them. They called out greetings to him and waved. Beyond him, they could see Adam Casey and Logan, from whose sides he had broken to come greet them.

There was a real and happy change evident in the boy, who had been shy and fearful except when he felt 'safe' with them or Grace. Now he seemed more confident in himself, and almost exuberant. He ran up and hugged them happily.

As Adam and Logan drew near, he said, "Skipper, Bobby... this is my big brother Adam." It was such a change in Jimmy that both Bobby and Skipper had bemused smiles on their faces. Jimmy had almost said more about himself in that sentence then in all the time he had been staying with them.

"Hey, guys.. nice to meet you," Adam said after shaking hands with both of them. "I’ve heard quite a bit about both of you."

"None of it good, I assume," Bobby said with a grin.

"Well, some of it was." Adam said with a mile wide grin as he pulled Jimmy into him in a hug. "This little guy almost talked my ear off about you guys. Once I got him talking, that is."

Logan couldn’t help but jump in... "Yeah, now we can hardly shut him up."

"HEY!" Jimmy said indignantly, but laughed with everyone else.

"But, since you guys are here, I figure now would be a good time to give you guys a little something from us. Consider it a thanks for helping my little brother," Adam said as he pulled out a card from his pocket.

"You guys didn’t..." Skipper started to say, but Adam stopped him with a hand.

"Skipper, there is nothing more important to me than my family. You went out of your way and helped my little brother, and what we did for you in return is nowheres near enough... in my opinion," Adam said emphatically.

When Bobby opened the card, he looked perplexed, then read the card to Skipper. "This is for two guys who we could never thank enough. What we got for you could not be put in this card, so you’ll have to wait till you get home for it. Don’t worry... you’ll know it when you see them."

Both guys looked at Adam questioningly, and Adam just grinned. "Bobby, I hear you’re the youngest EMT in the state of Maine?" When Bobby just nodded, Adam went on. "Well, if you want to, you may end up being the youngest... something else too. But... you’ll figure that out later."

Bobby was trying to say something, but got interrupted by Adam turning Jimmy around and looking at him. Adam taking on a very serious tone. "Jimmy, I want you to listen to me closely. I know that you’ve been having your nightmares still, and I think I’ve found a way to help you. Will you let me help you?"

Jimmy’s smile faded, and quickly his eyes turned from joyous and happy to scared and panicked. Adam sent as much love and comfort as he could through his eyes, but it didn’t really seem to work — until someone else walked up and took Jimmy’s hand. Almost instantly, Jimmy seemed to calm down a bit.

Adam looked over to see a boy about eleven years old, with sandy brown hair. It was evident in his demeanor that he was usually shy and reserved. Adam smiled deeply. "Thanks, I’m still learning how to do the empathy stuff."

"Well, me too," the newcomer said. "Back where we came from, I could feel what other people felt, but I couldn't DO anything about it." He looked pained at saying that, as if it was a fault in himself.

"Thanks, you're doing a good job now," Jimmy said quietly as he squeezed the boy's hand in thanks. "I’m Jimmy..." He struggled to say what he wanted, until he looked into Adam’s eyes again. He knew he didn’t need to be afraid with his big brother around, but it was still hard. He took a deep breath and turned to the boy. "I’m Jimmy, and Adam wants to help me with my nightmares. But... but I’m scared... could.. would... can you help me?"

"Of course I'll help," the boy said. "I'm Galen, by the way. I know you're Adam and Logan, but, um, you're really Adam's brother — by blood, I mean, not brothers the way we all are brothers now?"

Adam nodded as Jimmy looked to him. "Yes we are. Jimmy and Kent have the same mother as I do. Jimmy was also ‘experimented’ on like I was, but he is different. Jimmy can control fire as easy as we can breathe. But he’s afraid of it. We need to help him get over that fear, or else he will always be afraid of it and of himself." Jimmy nodded and was pulled up close to Adam, trying to be strong; but still needing to feel the comfort of his big brother.

"I’ll... I’ll try. If you guys will help me." Jimmy said while looking not just at Adam and Galen, but also to Skipper, Bobby, and Logan.

Logan noticed something in Bobby's expression — it was what he saw in the mirror when he was holding in his own temper by main force. "Okay, spit it out, Bobby," he said to him. "You don't think we'd ever hurt Jimmy, do you?"

"It's not that," Bobby said. "You didn't see him when we first found him. He's got that same panicked expression on his face and I don't ever want him to be that scared again." This last came out with some force, almost defiance, a "Don't fuck with his head" tone underlying it.

"Whoa, dude!" Logan said. "We're looking to do the same thing you are — we want to help him get past that fear, so he'll never have to feel that way again! But in order to do that, he has to FACE that fear. That’s what Adam wants to do here." Logan was restraining his own temper, knowing what was eating at Bobby. Skipper reached out and put a firm hand on Bobby's shoulder.

Jimmy was almost in tears, but he spoke up. "Bobby, Logan, touch Galen. You'll see he wouldn’t hurt me. I can feel who he is inside me somehow, and I know it. Just touch him. You'll see."

"You don't mind?" Bobby asked Galen. Wordlessly he shook his head no. Hesitantly, Bobby reached out and touched the side of Galen's head. Logan followed suit.

Slowly everyone there touched Galen, and then nodded in agreement. They all knew they had one mission right now, and that was to help Jimmy. "Okay, little guy," Adam started, "this is what we’re going to do. The best way to help you get over your fears is for you to use your abilities."

Jimmy started to look really scared, and Adam rushed on. "You don’t have to worry, we’ll all be right there to help you through this. None of us will let anything bad happen to you okay?" Skipper reached out and briefly rested his arm reassuringly across Jimmy's shoulders.

The young boy almost had tears in his eyes, but he looked up at his big brother and tried to be strong for him. As Skipper pulled back his arm, Adam put his own arm over Jimmy’s shoulder, and walked him out to an unoccupied area of the Short Compound. Then they all got a first hand demonstration of just how strong Jimmy’s control of fire actually was.

All during the display, Adam and Galen were helping Jimmy deal with the memories that came up because of what he was doing. Slowly, Jimmy began to get more comfortable with his powers, and as a result, more comfortable with himself. It wasn’t long till Jimmy was smiling and showing off what he could do. It was Bobby asking him a few questions that really made Jimmy work it out, but shortly, not only could he make fire, but he could also put it out.

It was his final display, though, that made everyone there gasp in shock. Jimmy tuned to them all, grinned, took a few steps back, then wreathed himself completely in flame. He could only hold it for a few seconds, but it was more than enough to make everyone there stare in shock.

When the fires went out, a grinning Jimmy was standing there. Of course, he couldn’t figure out why everyone was laughing. "Uhhh.... Jimmy... Next time you do that dude, you may want to think about your clothes." Jimmy looked down, and for the first time noticed that somehow he had managed to burn all his clothes off.

"The Human Torch never had to worry about that in the comics," Bobby giggled.

Skipper laughed. Thinking of the porn comics he'd seen in the Navy, he said, "Well, not in the ones they sold to kids!"

Will and Bill, Juan and Koth, Riti and Viccy, and Jory had all come over right before Jimmy erupted himself into flames. Will reached into his pack and pulled out a flight suit, then tossed it to him. "Here, it’s a bit big, but at least you won’t have the bird boy thinking it’s worm hunting time."

"Cheep?" Riti giggled, eying 'little Jimmy' with hungry eyes.

That of course got everyone laughing again. Finally Logan couldn’t help himself any longer. "You know, Adam," Logan said while throwing his arm over his lover’s shoulder. "I think you're right. The insanity of this place IS worse than at our place... but I think I like it." Skipper and Bobby laughed.

 

---

 

Alec and Andy were spending a little time with Cody, who was thrilled to have his new big brother and his brother's boyfriend willing to play with him. They were startled by a gaunt, hunched-over Vulcan beaming down a few feet from them.

"I am here at the behest of Ambassador Sarek," he stated to them. "Would you conduct me to the present location of Jonas McConnaghay, Harry Johnson, and Philip Wentworth?"

"Your request is acceptable," Alec said, adopting Vulcan mannerisms in an effort to be polite. "Please follow us." He led the Vulcan man across the Short Compound, waving to others as they went.

The three Maine teens were gathered around Trip and T'Pol, listening to Trip's stories of Earth's first days in space. "Greetings," he said to them. "I am S'pilash son of Fil'ak, a specialist in mind melds. The ambassador has sent me to perform a mind meld upon you, in order that you may be equipped to deal properly with the duty you performed for him earlier this Earth day."

T'Pol looked at him dispassionately. "I have performed the mind-meld which was required for their mental health," she said. "How does it happen that you arrive now, when the Ambassador dispatched you several hours ago, and in fact arrived here well before you?"

"My duty to others detained me," S'pilash answered equably. "The auxiliary helmsman on the Newton was performing science duty during the ion storm. What he saw unhinged his reason, or so he believed, and it was beyond the power of human healers of the mind to aid him. I was called in, and I came here when I had aided him as best I could."

Trip sat up alertly. "What might he have seen during an ion storm that would produce such results?" he asked. "Human spacemen are trained to observe strange phenomena and report on it accurately."

"What he described," S'pilash answered, "can only be attributed to hallucination. But he maintained he saw it clearly, and such fragmentary readings as the Newton was able to transmit through the storm match his description in part." S'pilash closed his eyes briefly, refreshing his memory. "He described a starship attempting to pass through a vortex in the storm. He described the ship as resembling that of human construction — like yet unlike standard Starfleet vessels. It was in flux so no definitive description could be remembered nor gained through Mind Meld. This much would have been no problem for him. But what he saw, and could only attribute to hallucination, was a giant hand, as large as the starship, first attempting to push it through, then drawing it back."

"He was quite clear that his observations were under no psychoactive drugs, and that they were as clear and detailed as his nebular observations of a month previous," the Vulcan healer continued. "Faced with having had what he believed to be a hallucination while on duty, he reported himself as unfit for duty, and asked for psychological help. When human therapists were unable to help, I was called on."

"And your conclusions?" T'Pol asked.

"C'thia dictates that he saw what he saw," S'pilash replied. "Even in mind-meld, I could find no mental issues that would have induced a hallucination, and the one scrap of sensor readings that was preserved matched his description exactly, so far as it can be read. I conclude that it is an unknown phenomenon which represents itself to our senses in the way described."

"You are trained," T'Pol said, "in the special disciplines of mind-meld therapy. As such, you are a valuable resource to T'Khasi. But do not forget that others are experienced in mind-melds, and may assist when your duties require your presence in multiple locales. Allow me to transfer to you what I did for these boys, that you may review it."

"Acceptable," S'pilash said. She raised her hand to the other's forehead.

"A satisfactory mind meld," he stated equably. "How does it come to be that you are so skilled at melding with Humans?"

"Having been married to one for over eight decades provides one with more than adequate opportunity to perfect one's skills," T'Pol replied straightfaced. Trip chuckled. A fleeting smile played across S'pilash's visage.

"Then if I am not needed here," he said, "I shall return to the Embassy Compound for rest. Live long and prosper!"

"Peace and long life," Trip, T'Pol, and the boys responded formally.

As the Vulcan healer was transported out, T'Pol's eyes turned to Jamie and Jacob. "Come with me, nephews of my House!" she said. "It is necessary that your mind be studied."

Giggling, the twins followed her off.

 

---

 

Raeford Road, Orlando

Ralphie walked moodily past the fenced-in yard where empty delivery trailers sat awaiting a customer's need to have them loaded. The scraggly pines and scragglier palms provided inadequate shade from the Florida sun, still hot in October.

He wanted to put behind him the evening and night he had just spent, an unwilling guest of the Orange County Juvenile Detention Facility, courtesy of Starfleet Security. If not the stuff of nightmares, it was something he would prefer not to repeat soon. Being locked into a room, the uncomfortable hard bed, the toilet right next to his bed, the taunts from older, more wizened teens, the always-kind but no-nonsense attitude of the guards... he was glad to be out, with nothing but the admonition not to bully anyone, and to prevent bullying in his presence if possible, hanging over him.

What had started out as a fun afternoon at the Mall had turned into something he had never anticipated. 'I'll pay Lee back for getting me into that...' he began to think. Then a realization — Lee hadn't done anything but mind his own business. It was how he felt about Lee, and how Lee was different from his friends, that had led to his getting locked up. And for all Ralphie's faults, one thing he was, was honest with himself. 'Paying Lee back would land me right back in there, and he really didn't do anything to me, except exist,' he thought. Absently, he kicked a rock into the road. An old man mowing his lawn glanced his way and smiled.

He turned onto Ferncreek to get up towards where he could snag a ride. The long row of older small-lot ranch houses and budget townhouses depressed him. He walked on up towards Michigan Street, and spotted some of his friends coming out of Domino's. He waved them down. "Hey, can I get a lift?"

"Sure, dude. Hop in. We're just going down to shoot some pool and hang out."

"Sounds cool." He squeezed into a crowded back seat.

"Where are you coming from?"

"I screwed up, and had to spend the night in Juvy. Just got let out."

"Oh, man, that craps! You free now?"

"Yeah, just a warning about making trouble again."

"Guess they don't know you very well, then." The grin from his friend was intended to take the sting out of the remark, but it didn't. Ralphie felt cold inside that his 'rep' was somebody that always got into trouble. That was not how he looked at himself.

He set that thought to one side, along with the thoughts he'd had during the night and on the walk from Juvy. to Domino's, and turned to the serious business of having fun with his friends. But the thought of what people saw him as continued to haunt him.

 

---

 

Arkham Town Hall, that evening

There was a fairly large crowd moving smoothly if crowdedly into the Selectmen's meeting room as George Wentworth and his sons arrived for his first board meeting since moving to Arkham. Looking grim, Josiah waved a greeting at him from across the hall, where he was seated with Maureen, Jonas, Peter, Abbie, and Harry. Moments later, the Wentworths were joined by three middle-aged people, a man and two women, accompanied by a 12-year-old boy and a teenage girl he recognized. "Why, hello, Tanya!" he said affably. "Will you introduce me to your parents, please?"

"Sure," she said with just a touch of coquettishness, and with an air of assuming 'proper' manners, said, "Mr. Wentworth, these are Brian and Kaitlyn O'Ryan, my parents, and my Aunt Kelly and her son Danny, my cousin. Mother, Dad, Aunt Kelly, Danny, this is Mr. George Wentworth, our local State's Attorney, and his adopted sons, Philip, Randall, and Andrew." A round of greetings and handshakes followed, the kids being a bit shy about it. "You two are so cute," Kelly said to the twins. "Are you Randy and Andy?"

"I'm Drew," Drew told her seriously. "We did that apurpose, so we wouldn't get teased about being Randy-and-Andy from our friends."

Bri looked down at him. "I can respect that, Drew," he said. He held out his hand to the little redhead, who hesitantly shook it. "My last name is O'Ryan, and my parents named me Brian. Put that together, and you'll see I know just what you're talking about. If you get teased, and your father's not available to deal with it, you can always call on me to back you up." He smiled at the boys, who gave him a big grin back, a generation gap successfully bridged.

Ethel Townsend, the Town Clerk, bustled in and began setting up to take notes at the end of the board's table. There was a bit of a stir as the two Pen Throxtons, father and son, walked in, with Doug at the younger Pen's side. The boys waved hello somewhat shyly; the older man jauntily waved at George, and walked over to talk with Josiah.

Marybeth Summerville, the youngest and only woman Selectman, made her way to the table, followed by Arthur Broadnax, the only board member not up for election the following month. The other 'carryover' seat, that of the incarcerated and unlamented Randall Scordo, had been left vacant until the election. Phil Clancy, the town's remaining policeman, walked in and took a prominent seat in full uniform. Grace and Bobby Martin strode in with Skipper, Grace in pristine R.N. whites and both E.M.T.'s in full uniform, stern expressions on their faces. Brandon and Andy tagged along behind, looking confused as to why they were there. Marco Annunziata, a lawyer from down in Farmington, strode pompously in; George and Josiah both hid looks of distaste. The man won cases, but not with his charm. Moments later the last two Selectmen, Don Hogan and Hank Rutledge, came through the door from Rutledge's office as Chairman of the Selectmen, their ears being bent earnestly by an insurance adjuster from Wilton. Pen senior noticed this and smirked.

Rutledge walked, briskly for an older man, to the board table, and rapped for order. As the crowd noises died down, he called the meeting to order and asked for a motion to accept the minutes of the previous meeting and dispense with their reading. Marybeth said, "I so move"; Arthur, "Seconded". Hank perfunctorily asked for dissent, paused a scant second, and declared them accepted.

As he then proceeded to Old Business, Broadnax spoke up. "Begging your pardon, Hank, but there's been quite a lot happen in this town in the last month. I move we proceed directly to New Business and Concerns from the Floor." Hank looked disconcerted; Marybeth seconded the motion. He glanced at Hogan, who nodded. "Objection?" Hank said formally, then "There being none, motion carries."

Officer Clancy rose. "Town Police report," he said. "As I'm sure you're all aware, the Arkham Town Police has been me since the 6th, when Randall Scordo and the men he had you hire were arrested by the Federation. With Hank's consent, I've been using young Sammy Portier from Farmington's force two evenings a week to give myself a break. He's on patrol tonight."

He coughed. "In my considered opinion, this town doesn't need a police chief. I've spoken to Sheriff Winfield, and with proper coordination with the County, we don't need the size force that Scordo had in place. But I do need a second officer available full-time, and ideally an additional part-time position. I don't think I need to tell any of you how much has happened in the past month that calls for adequate police work in this town." He looked at Hank, who nodded for him to continue. "If you all agree, I propose that two vacant full-time positions be abolished, and that I be empowered to hire a second full-time officer and a part-time moonlighter for the town police, acting in company with Hank. I suggest that Sammy be offered his choice of the positions on a first-refusal basis, and we interview to hire whichever one he doesn't take, or both if he doesn't want either." A glance from Hank reminded him. "Oh, and also board approval of our use of Sammy for coverage during the past month."

"How much do we save?" Don asked. Hank flipped a few pages of printout and worked a calculator, finally quoting off a figure. Don nodded. "I move we accept Phil's recommendations and act as he suggests."

"Second," Arthur called out. Hank asked, "Objection?", paused, then announced "Motion carried."

Skipper rose. "Emergency Services. May I request that you put on record in public session the policy you adopted in private earlier in the week, and informed me of a couple of days ago?"

"What policy is this?" Marybeth asked. Arthur and Don's eyes turned to her.

"Uh, Marybeth, we met Monday; you were tied up with your kid's doctor's appointment," Don began. Hank was making sideways soothe-the-ruffled-feathers motions with his hands.

"And why am I just hearing about it now?" she asked angrily.

"Well, it was routine, implementing a recommendation from our insurance company in order to save money," Don went on.

Josiah stood. "A recommendation made in defiance of a valid court order," he said firmly.

"And one that could involve the town in a catastrophically expensive discrimination lawsuit," the insurance adjuster said from his seat.

Hank looked at the senior Pen Throxton, 'Do something' implicit in his expression. Pen mouthed back, "You made the mess; you fix it."

"Does somebody want to explain to me what this is all about?" Marybeth said with mixed anger and confusion in her voice.

Arthur spoke up. "It's a knotty mess of our own making, Marybeth. You know that Bobby Martin has been riding along with Skipper on emergency runs."

She nodded, "Yes, I was aware of that. I thought he was too young to be doing that, but it's up to Skipper and to Grace; if Skipper felt he could help, and Grace gave her consent, it's not my business to judge what they do."

"Well, Bobby got certified as a full-fledged E,M.S. provider a week and a half ago," Arthur went on. "And about time, too, in my opinion; he's been ready for months." Don looked ready to object; Hank glared him down.

"I sent in the change in status to Hub Assurance," Ethel said, "just as I'm supposed to do when someone on the fire department finishes their training."

"Hub sent back what was pretty much a form letter, advising us that he was underage for coverage except as a youth volunteer, on fire site assistance or first aid," Arthur went on. "They said we had to remove him from the E.M.T. service, or they'd cancel coverage. So Hank got the letter, called Don and me — there was no answer at your house — and we got together and drafted a resolution requiring Bobby to resign from the E.M.T. service."

"Hank called me the next morning, and told me the news," Skipper said hotly. "I told him we came as a team, and went to clear our stuff out of the fire barn. Josiah stopped me, and told me to wait."

Josiah was on his feet. "On October 18 of this year," he said, "at a joint session of the Franklin County Family Court and the Clan Short Tribunal of the Planet Vulcan authorized to act in this jurisdiction by the treaty between Ektra-Maat T'Khasi and the League of Nations and by the Safe Haven Act of the United Federation of Planets, grounds were adduced under both United States Supreme Court precedent and the provisions of Federation law to declare Bobby of competent age and ability to serve this town as an E.M.T., as has been his dream and to which he has bent his efforts for the past two years. Technically, this Board of Selectmen stands not only in contempt of court as regards that decree, but in violation of State, Federal, and Federation law. I was informed just before this meeting that Hub Assurance has seen the error of their ways, and wishes to enter into a settlement with young Mr. Martin in lieu of the lawsuit which he and his mother could undoubtedly press and win."

The claims adjuster was dancing in place like a small boy desperately seeking permission to go to the bathroom before it's too late. "That's right," he interjected.

Pen Throxton senior smirked mirthlessly at Hank.

"So what you're saying," Marybeth said slowly, "is that the three of you acted on a form letter from our insurance carrier in a way that violated a court order and nearly ran us into a lawsuit?"

"That would be correct," Josiah interjected.

"How much?" Don asked the claims adjuster.

"I haven't negotiated a settlement yet," the adjuster temporized.

"If we nearly got into a lawsuit, I want to know how much, man!" Don said explosively.

"The Vice President who called me said the man who told him about it mentioned … thirty million," the adjuster said nervously.

"You nearly got us into a thirty million dollar lawsuit?!" Marybeth exclaimed.

"Unless you reverse that resolution," Josiah remarked, "there's no 'nearly' about it. Hub Assurance may have made the initial mistake, but what keeps Bobby on the service or throws him off is this board's resolution — that, and his own willingness to forgive your screw-up, if he does." He paused for effect, then "Either you reverse that resolution, or the lawsuit is still on."

"For the love of Pete, I move that it be reversed!" Don spat out. He was, however, too slow; Marybeth said, "Move it be voided" as he was speaking.

"Second?" Hank asked. "Seconded," Marybeth and Don both called out, each of the other's motion. "Moved and seconded to reverse and void the resolution dropping Bobby Martin from the E.M.T. squad. Any objections? — Carried." Hank said efficiently.

"I'm glad that's over with," Don said.

"Not so fast," Arthur said. "The boy's been doing good work for us for months now, and we rewarded him with a slap in the face because of his age, at the behest of some jokers in Boston who probably have to look Arkham up on a map. Seems to me we owe him an apology and a vote of thanks."

"I agree," Marybeth said. "Maybe we ought to hear from him; he's sitting there next to Skipper, after all. And one more objection —" she added, with a touch of anger in her voice, "would one of you gentlemen explain to me what was so all-fired urgent about dealing with this that it couldn't wait three days until the normal board meeting, when we're all present, instead of passing it at a special private meeting behind my back, so to speak?"

"Now Marybeth..." Hank began to placate her.

"Don't you 'Now Marybeth' me, Hank Rutledge! I'm thirty years your junior, and a woman, but when I sit on this board, I'm your equal. I got just as many votes as you did; I'm just as concerned for this town as you are; and I won't stand for an old boys' network playing games behind my back."

"We did try to reach you, Marybeth," Don interjected.

"Still doesn't answer my question — why did you need to pass that resolution so blamed fast?"

Ethel snickered. "You know the answer to that one, if you think about it. Some of us stand square for family values."

The town clerk had inadvertently named the elephant that everyone was pretending was not standing in the room with them. Grace, Skipper, and Bobby began to cloud up, as did the Throxtons. Abbie's eyes went to Harry, but he wasn't cringing as she'd expected; he was looking angry and resolute. Josiah looked at the claims adjuster with a trick he'd learned in law school, a predatory grin. The adjuster suddenly got even more nervous.

Arthur turned to Ethel. "Your job is to take minutes and process paperwork," he told her coldly. "The day you want to make policy for this town, you run for the board. There is a vacant seat."

Josiah spoke up. "I'd planned to bring this up later, but as long as Ethel's stuck the board's collective foot in its mouth, now is as good a time as any. May I remind this board that since Saturday, Maine has been a Safe Haven state, subject to Vulcan law, and that the same day I talked Skipper out of quitting as your E.M.T., Ethel made a policy decision contrary to that law?"

The eyebrows of all four board members went up like a convention of Vulcans simultaneously finding something very intriguing. "Really?" drawled Arthur. "I think we need to hear more about that."

"I agree," Marybeth interjected.

"In good time," Hank said, trying to bring the meeting back on track. "I agree we need to hear Josiah out, but let us first hear from Bobby and Skipper. I think making sure we have an E.M.S. is something we cannot take for granted."

"Too bad you didn't feel that way a couple of days ago," Skipper said dryly. "I was born and raised here; I plan on staying, and working for you as long as you'll have me. But let me make one thing clear: where Bobby goes, I go. We're a team. Lose him, and you lose me. Clear?"

Arthur and Marybeth were nodding. "Bobby?" Hank asked.

"Oh, jeez! Yeah, I'm peeved about it, but I worked too hard to learn what I could, so that I could save lives and keep people from hurting, to up and quit on you. But don't make the mistake of thinking I'm happy about what happened!" Bobby said.

"In your shoes, I wouldn't be, either," Marybeth answered him. "Becky still talks about the nice boy who held her when she fell out of the tree and hurt herself." She blinked away the reminiscence, turned to her fellow selectmen, and said, clearly, "I move that the Town of Arkham Board of Selectmen tender its formal apology for acting in reliance on its insurance carrier's false information, and its gratitude for ongoing and devoted service to the town, to Robert Martin, E.M.T."

There was a pause. "I second that motion," Arthur said slowly. "Discussion?" Hank asked.

"What about the lawsuit?" Don asked.

"We owe it to him whether or not he chooses to sue," Arthur said. "But I think he made it clear that he's moved by something other than money or getting even with us." He glanced up. "Thank you, Bobby, for what you said."

"He's a volunteer," Grace said firmly. "He doesn't cost the Town a penny, except the insurance coverage you'd have in place for anyone doing the job. And while you're at it, you might bring Skipper's pay current and give him his vacation pay that his contract calls for."

"The budget..." Don began.

"The budget comes from the tax levy!" Annabelle Watson was on her feet, with an expression on her face that had terrified three generations of Arkham children, including Don in his younger years. The 74-year-old woman was only 5'3" and weighed a scant 115 pounds, but her angry presence had dominated larger and stronger people as far back as most people in town could remember. "We pay taxes for government services. Phil catches criminals, or at least that's what he's paid to do. The fire department's all volunteer, but they need equipment. Ethel's job, and Ellen's when she's working, is to keep track of all the paperwork, make sure it all goes to the right places. Elvira's was to make sure help goes to those as needed it — not that she was very good at it, but that's what she was supposed to do. And Skipper's is to make sure, if anybody gets hurt, they live long enough to get to the hospital. That's what we pay 'em for."

She looked Don in the eye. "You came to my home last week, fixed my washer, and wanted a hundred bucks for doing it. Well, I put off getting my hair done, put off buying my canning supplies for a week, to pay you. I did that because you'd performed a service I asked you for, and expected to get paid for it. You didn't want to hear about my budget, you wanted to get paid." She glared. "What makes you think Skipper's any different? We vote in the tax levy because we know we need government services. He's our employee; pay him."

"Well, revenues are off right now," Don said. "Scordo Construction's closed down; the bank's..."

Hazel Dupré looked up from her seat near the back. "It's true," the mousy-looking woman said, "that we're going through a massive internal audit to find out what all Jordan Eccles skimmed off our accounts. But the bank's insured, safe, stable. If the town needs a short-term note to keep itself liquid while its revenues are down, we would have no trouble underwriting it — at the right interest, of course."

George decided to back her. He stood. "I've been working closely with Hazel, thanks to the criminal aspects of what Jordan did. So I can tell you, the bank's sound. And further, Josiah and I went to interview a man who knows the contracting business, in behalf of the heir to the man who held the mortgages on Scordo's business. He'll be here tomorrow to see if he's willing to take it over and get it running again."

"Well, that's good news," Arthur said. "The number of rocks that have got turned over, and the amount of stuff that's scuttled out from under them this past month, it's nice to have some good news for a change." He looked meaningfully at Hank. "I move we bring all salaries paid from town funds current, and if a note be needed to keep the town's coffers from being drained, that Marybeth and I be empowered to negotiate it with Western Maine State Bank."

"I've always done that," Hank said."

"The point is, you haven't," Marybeth shot back. "You've let Don's perpetual worrying about money and Randall Scordo's flimflam run this town to a place where nobody trusts anybody any more. And it's about time to turn that around. Second the motion."

"We're State of Maine people; we pay our bills," a voice from the audience called out. A rumble of agreement spread through the crowd.

"'S been moved and seconded we bring all wages current, and authorize taking out a note if necessary to the amount needed," Hank said, trying to take charge again. "Further discussion?" Don looked ready to object; the expressions on the faces of the other three Selectmen told him silently not to say a word. "I vote aye," Marybeth said. Arthur echoed her. "Aye, and carried," Hank said.

"Now, Josiah, to what you were going to bring up," Hank started to say. Knowing what was coming, Maureen, Jonas, and Harry began to stand with him as he rose to reply.

"Oh, there you boys are," said attorney Marco Annunziata. He walked over to them and handed them folded pieces of paper, saying, "You're served."

"What's this about, Marco?" Josiah asked.

"Bessie and Edgar Wheeler engaged me to sue them, for the wrongful death of their son Ralph."

 

---

 

Revere Suites, Boston, earlier in the day

"It's so good to have you back home," Bernie Halstead said as he handed Francis a flute of Pinot Grigio. Francis was relaxed in a modern designer chair, looking out the window as the rapidly gentrifying North End of Boston. The spacious loft apartment they owned and lived in was decorated in sparse but exquisite taste, with underspoken metal, glass, and pastel leather pieces tastefully arrayed. The view nook they presently occupied was off a 'great room' with entertaining, dining, and cooking areas; a master suite and a guest suite opened off it in other directions, showing the architect's and designer's skill in converting the old warehouse into a tasteful upper-class living space.

"I'm happy to be home, love," Francis said affectionately. "But to say it was an eventful trip, well, it's the sort of understatement some of our more arty friends might relish."

Bernie grinned. "And you would never be that camp, of course?"

Francis stuck out his tongue at Bernie, then moved it to sensuously lick the corner of his mouth. "Keep that up," Bernie said, "and I will think of other things you can do with that tongue, and a few I can do with my own." He leered for a second. "But you acted like you wanted to talk, when you first came in. What's on your mind, love?" he asked solicitously.

"Well, you know how loyal a friend Pen has been all these years?" Francis began.

"Of course; he's been a shining light in the general homophobia we had to deal with among 'our own'." The irony in Bernie's voice as he referred to their extended families and network of former friends hung palpably in the air.

"What neither of us really came to grips with, when we visited, is that young Pen is, first, gay, and was desperately lonely," Francis went on.

"Well, for heaven's sake, why didn't you invite him down?" Bernie asked. "We know enough people who are 'family' to give him a decent social circle, and likely find him a boyfriend. I never did think much of Pen's idea of bringing him up in that backwoods place."

"He's a step ahead of us," Francis smiled. "It seems a poor boy from town was a secret admirer of his, and stepped in decisively twice, saving him from a bashing and then from being raped on two successive days. They're a couple now, and give old Pen credit, he's doing his level best to make young Doug feel at home, part of the family."

"But that's not all," Francis went on. "It seems the boys not only found each other and came out to each other, but they managed to get included in that group that's been in the news, the mostly gay kids that have been using Vulcan authority to rescue abused kids."

Bernie's eyebrows involuntarily did an imitation of a Vulcan's, themselves. "Really? Little Pen's got involved in that?"

"That, and a whole lot more," Francis averred. "You know that paramilitary group out West that got shot up in Montana last weekend? They're involved as well. I met one of them; he was doing a security analysis for Pen. That was a trip — imagine a young blond twelve-year-old giving a professional-level analysis, and critiquing what's wrong with the outfit Pen had providing security? But what else he had to say is what I really wanted to talk to you about."

Bernie made the 'go-on' motions Francis was used to. He thought again, with deep affection, how lucky they had been to find each other in college — and how some were not that lucky. "When young Todd left the Unit base — 'Camp Bam Bam' they call it, and there's a heart-wrenching story behind that — they had rescued and taken in about five thousand homeless kids, most from abusive situations." Bernie's eyes opened a bit wider. "But he showed me a government study, from a year or two back, that estimates there are three quarters of a million homeless kids out there."

Francis looked out the window. "It's beautiful here, isn't it? People with dreams and money, buying up these old buildings and converting them to places like this, with wealth and taste." He looked off into the distance, southwards. "What we don't pay attention to is that there are kids with no resources and no future, ones who didn't have it as good as us, struggling to survive. Remember talking about how afraid we'd been, back before college, that our secrets would come out? Some of them, that's what happened — and apparently, they ran, or were thrown out, or sent to 'be cured of their perversion'" — Francis looked disgusted — "and they're living hand to mouth, stealing or selling their bodies for what they need to survive."

He looked intently into his husband's eyes. "When I heard Todd's stories, about what those kids have been through, what some of them are going through right now, it was like going back in time, knowing that fear all over again. We need to help them, Bernie. We need to reach out and help them."

"I have never seen you this worked up about a social issue," Bernie answered. "What's going on?"

"We're living the life we dreamed of, Bernie," Francis said. "I saw little Pen — and he's still small of body — well, with one exception," he grinned. "I saw him motivated to fix what's wrong with the world."

"Teenagers have been having that attitude for years," Bernie said.

"But this time," Francis said, "they have a way to do it. This Clan Short thing — they have the power, the authority to make those changes. And love, we know what it was like, we need to help."

"We had a great quarter," Bernie said. "How much do you want to give?"

"You don't see it," Francis said. "I don't want to write out a check, like we've done for the museum and the Red Cross. I want us to get involved. Those are kids with no hope. We've been there, and we made it. I want to show them there's hope, that they too can be a successful gay couple, invited to Andy Tobias's parties and Palm Springs weekends. I want to go out and take some of those kids in."

"You're serious," Bernie said, eyes wide open now. Francis nodded.

"There's not much I'd ever deny you, love," Bernie said. "If this matters as much to you as it evidently does, then let's go find out what we need to do."

 

---

 

The case worker at Children's Services was not impressed. "Four boys to place, and two of them teenagers," she groused. "This is not going to be easy." She flipped through her records. "Hmmm, a foster home in Roxbury, one vacancy, preteens. Well, that takes care of him," she said, pointing at Blakey. "And here's a group home down in Southie catering to preteens. Salvatore can go there."

"Now you two," she said, looking at Pat and Benny, who was still a bit muzzy from his morning high. She looked up at the policeman. "Can you put them in Juvenile Hall on something while I try to find a place for them?" Pat and Benny tensed; they'd heard about Juvenile Hall.

"They haven't committed any crimes that I know of," he replied, "other than squatting in an abandoned apartment. And from what the paying tenant had to say, the guy who owns it lives in Phoenix. He's not even trying to rent it out any more, simply using her rent to pay taxes and the water bill. When I asked if he'd be likely to press charges on the kids, she said he doesn't want to be bothered."

The boys' reactions hadn't escaped his notice, either. "Besides," he added, "I gave these boys my word that if they cooperated, I'd make sure they got treated right. They did, and I'll keep my word to them."

"Well, it's going to take me a while to get somebody in here to transport these two," pointing at Tory and Blakey, "and figure out what to do with the other two. Why don't you take them somewhere while I work, if you're so concerned about them?"

"Someone has to be," the cop said under his breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing, ma'am. C'mon, boys, there's a donut shop right next door." He grinned. Pat tried to hide a smile. "Cops and donuts, huh?" the policeman said, chuckling. "Actually, though they'll probably drive me out of the P.B.A. for saying it, I don't like donuts. But it sounded like something you four might enjoy. C'mon with me."

With an air of 'what can't be cured must be endured', the boys followed the policeman out of the Children's Services office and into the donut shop in the adjacent building, there being access through the lobby of the public building.

"I wanna stay with you, Pat, Benny!" Tory's prison whisper carried not merely to the two older boys but to the cop, as they sat at the table with jelly-filled donuts and sodas. The cop had a cup of coffee.

"You boys were thinking, 'she's a real bitch,' weren't you?" the policeman said. Startled glances and nods betokened agreement. "I'll give you, she has all the caring personality of a charging rhinoceros. But what you may be missing is that she and I are both bound by rules. I mean, I didn't like seeing you squatting in that abandoned apartment, with almost no resources, knowing what you probably had to be doing to make a buck. It was my legal duty to bring you in and try to get you some help. And it's her job to find that help, and she's pretty burned out from years of doing it. I knew her when she first started here, and she really cared about kids. I think that's been burned out of her by years of following regs., of kids scamming her if she did try to bend the rules." He took a healthy sip of his coffee. "I gave you my word and I'll do my best to keep it," he said. "There are limits to what I can legally do in this job, but within them, I'll help as I can."

Two men in expensive casual suits walked hesitantly into the lobby next door; Pat noticed them through the window glass and wondered casually who they were. Not that it would make any difference to his own messed-up future, of course.

They looked at the building directory, seeming to disagree about what they wanted, then scanned the area for a receptionist, but one was not in evidence. One of the men pointed to the cop sitting with the boys, and they walked over to the door and into the donut shop.

"Excuse me, sir," Francis said to the cop, "could you tell me...." His question dropped off unfinished as Bernie and Benny stared wide-eyed at each other.

Bernie broke the eyelock, and turned his attention to the cop. "May I assume, sir, that these boys are in your custody?"

"More or less," the cop answered. "I'm entertaining them while the woman from Children's Services tries to find places to place them."

"Ah, all right," Bernie said. "Might we have the privilege of speaking to this young man, within your sight but in private?" The policeman smiled his approval; Bernie firmly motioned Benny to join them back in the C.S. building lobby.

"Francis, this young fellow has been downtown nearly daily, outside our bank or one of the brokerages. I've spoken to him several times; he either has an extremely multitalented mother, or a vivid imagination and excellent storytelling skills." Benny looked sheepish. "He also hinted strongly that he would join me in bed, or in the back seat of my car, or whatever, if the price is right."

"He never took me up on it, sir," Benny interjected.

"No, I chose showcase number three, instead," Bernie joked. "Seriously, Francis, I know what we came here for, but I think the decision has been made for us." Francis looked surprised.

"What the policeman said — they are trying to find placements for those four boys," Bernie said. Turning to Benny, "I assume you all know each other."

"Um, yeah, we were staying together in this apartment when the cop found us," Benny said. "I, um, probably won't be available...."

"That's not what I meant, son," Bernie said. He looked at Francis. "We came here for homeless kids," he said. "You don't get any more homeless than sitting in a coffee shop with a cop while somebody tries to find a place to ship you off to. They were, at least, going to try to keep you together, right?"

"Um, no. She picked two houses for Tory and Blakey already; it's just Pat and me she had to find a place to put. And they won't let us stay together. She acted like we were just problems that she didn't want to bother with." Benny was sufficiently shocked by what had happened that he was telling the unvarnished truth.

"That ties it," Bernie said. He looked deep into Francis's eyes, and said, "Love, you were right. These boys need our help; let's do it."

Francis nodded. "Let's go talk to Boston's Finest."

 

---

 

Arkham Town Hall

"Accept service," Josiah said to Jonas and Harry. Startled but willing to go along with the judge's guidance, they took the folded legal papers.

"Now, Marco," Josiah said. "Let me remind you that Maine is now a Safe Haven State, that Ralph was killed in the effort to kill the boys and us, and that countersuits are, to borrow the kids' phrase, a bitch." He smiled mirthlessly.

Marco was taken aback by Josiah's comment. He turned to leave. "Oh, sit down, Marco," Josiah said. "In fact, I insist on it." His eyes went to Phil Clancy, sitting in full police uniform nearby.

Peter suddenly came alert. He looked up at Maureen. "Time for me to do my Mikyvis thing, Mommy. I'll be back shortly!" He gave her a tight and very non-random hug, and was gone.

"You were about to say, Josiah?" Hank prompted.

"On Tuesday last, we went to Ethel's office for marriage licenses," Josiah began. "Under present law in this state, all those present were entitled to them. Ethel was prepared to issue one and deny another, I am quite assured on the basis of her personal beliefs rather than any regulation or law." Josiah was of course making reference to the events of Tuesday morning, when Ethel the town clerk had turned down Jonas and Harry's application for a marriage license.

FLASHBACK: extract from Chapter 22:

"Why, good morning, Judge!" said the Town Clerk as they walked in.

"And good morning to you, Ethel," he replied. "I need two marriage license forms, if you please."

"Just a moment, Judge," she said, opening a flatfile drawer and drawing out two forms.

The four walked over to a nearby counter. Josiah handed the two boys one of the forms. In couples, they made out the forms.

Finishing the forms, they brought them back to Ethel the Town Clerk, and Josiah fished out his billfold to pay for the two licenses. She looked the Judge's and Maureen's over carefully, said "Congratulations!" and stamped it with the town seal as approved. Then she turned to Jonas and Harry's license application. Her eyes narrowed and her lips tightened.

"Josiah, this can't go through. This appears to be a marriage license application from two fifteen-year-old boys," she said purse-lipped.

"That's correct," Josiah said neutrally.

"That's contrary to Maine state law. Arkham's never had one of those gay marriages, and I'm not about to approve it starting. Besides, both boys are underage."

"They are members of Clan Short of Vulcan, and are deemed of legal age to contract a marriage under Vulcan law," Josiah said in a professional tone.

"Then let them go to Vulcan," Ethel said. "That doesn't give them the right to play at being married in the State of Maine."

Harry and Jonas were coldly angry, ready to let out a blistering stream of argument at her. Maureen's expression said that she was not far behind them.

Josiah noticed the tempers of all three beginning to flare. "Here, Ethel," he said, handing her the appropriate amount for both applications. "Come, Maureen, boys – let's step outside." As they exited the building, Jonas angrily said, "Why did you do that? I was about ready to chew her...."

Josiah held up his hand. "We're in the right. The Governor proclaimed Maine a Safe Haven state subject to Vulcan law back on Sunday."

"So...?" Harry challenged.

"That means we can force her to approve your license. The question now is, what's the best way of going about doing that? That's what I drew us out here to discuss." Josiah's expression was one of calm determination.

"Interesting," said Arthur. "Not the first time something of the sort has happened, either, from my understanding."

"That would be correct," Timothy Aiken said. The dentist, his blond hair now tinged with gray, put his arm protectively around his wife and assistant Lateesha; her ebony features were set in an uncharacteristic scowl at the memory.

"Here too," interjected Jean-Luc DuBois. The French-Canadian manager of the local Throxton factory had experienced a touch of anti-Franco bigotry when he first came to Arkham. Pen senior glanced over and nodded.

"So did she deny you and Maureen a license?" Don asked.

"No, she was prepared to issue that one," Josiah answered him.

"Abbie?" Arthur addressed Harry's mother. "I didn't know you'd met anyone you were serious about."

"Not me, my son," Abbie said. A susurrus of hushed voices went through the crowd.

"Harry is not old enough to marry," Marybeth objected.

"Under State of Maine law, that would have been true, subject to very particularized exceptions that aren't relevant to Harry's situation," Josiah said smoothly. "But that changed last weekend." Josiah had the crowd's attention at that point, and he played it up.

"Under our state laws, there were a number of occasions when I or one of the other judges was forced to rule against what we felt to be just. Remember the Save-a-Lot robbery three years back?" Marco preened himself; his defense of the two men accused of robbing the discount store had highlighted a bungled search by Roscoe Burton and a deputy that had led to crucial evidence being ruled inadmissible. "Or remember little Sara Horne? I had no choice but to restore her to her parents when they reconciled. What happened after still haunts me."

"The Governor's proclamation of Maine's Safe Haven status on Sunday, and the legislature ratifying it the next day, changed all that. We're free now to apply Vulcan law. And Vulcan law is founded on logic, a logic that includes a good practical morality. Harm to a child or to an innocent citizen is punished strictly. But people are not trammeled by insanely complex regulations, like the Toxic Substances Act of 2001." Josiah grinned; he had his audience now. The community remembered the regulations drafted for larger cities that would have penalized them for keeping paint thinner in their garages or gasoline for their lawnmowers and tractors. "In short, two adults may enter into a contract, whether to sell and buy land, for one to do odd jobs for another, or to enter into a marriage, without having to seek a permit or consent."

Jonas stood; his eyes sought out Tanya, who nodded encouragement with a smile. "Last Saturday, as you all know, six men attempted to kill me, my mother, the judge here, George Wentworth and his boys, and Harry. They tried — and they failed. But when I thought I'd lost the people most important in my life, I realized that it was Harry, my best friend since we were little, who mattered to me, who was the one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. That evening, I proposed to him. It was Harry and me who were turned down for the license."

"You are only fifteen; you are too young to marry," Hank said authoritatively.

The stir of chatter from the crowd was cut off abruptly by Peter's return. With him, in full formal regalia, stood Captain Spock. The legendary Vulcan Starfleet officer scanned the crowd impassively.

 

---

 

Children's Services, Boston

"There are procedures, you know," the case worker said dismissively. "We would need to do an adoption study, you would need to be licensed foster care givers, and you have none of that proof. We cannot hand these children out to just anyone who comes through that door, you know."

"I was under the impression you were having trouble placing them," said the policeman. "I would think you would expedite an emergency care license, if it means that four boys who have bonded can remain as a family."

"That is for real emergencies, not situations like this. These boys will be just fine in the authorized sites I've found for them," she answered with some heat.

"And exactly why would you two gentlemen be looking for a group of homeless boys, anyway?" she sneered. "Yes, Massachusetts did decide to consider you as married, despite what some of us may think. But how can you provide a decent home, with no woman's touch?"

Bernie began to get angry at the cavalier treatment and innuendos he had been faced with for the last ten minutes, since he had proposed opening their home to the four boys.

"Boys," the policeman said to the four, "I am afraid I'll be unable to keep my promise. I did the best I could, and I'm confident of what these men are offering. But there are set procedures that have to be followed, and none of us is in a position where we can override them. I'm afraid...."

A light dawned for Francis. "Just a moment," he said. "The issue here is that we could take these boys home today if it were not for the need to follow state procedures, am I correct?"

"Yes," the case worker allowed. "You'd need to at minimum have foster parent licenses, and between us, this agency does not look with favor on gay couples as potential foster parents."

"Why not?" Bernie asked belligerently.

Francis rested his hand on his partner's knee. "Wait," he said. He pulled out his cell phone and speeddialed a number. It rang. "Pen?" he said. "Francis here. May I speak to young Pen, please? I need his group's help." Seven startled faces looked at him.

 

---

 

Arkham Town Hall

The crowd gaped at the sudden appearance of the famous Vulcan Starfleet captain. Peter led Spock over to where Josiah and Jonas were standing. Harry rose and spread his fingers in the proper gesture. "T'nar pak sorat y'rani," he said in formal greeting.

"T'nar jaral," Spock replied, his gaze taking in the two boys, dressed in jeans and Clan sweatshirts, their commbadges prominent on their chests and their phasers attached to their belts. Both boys felt nervous at his gaze. "Pray continue," he said to Josiah. "Young Peter here has informed me of the circumstances that caused him to transport me here."

"Thank you, Captain," Josiah said.

"Congratulations on finding your son," Maureen interjected warmly from her seat.

"Yes, congratulations, sir," Josiah said.

Spock nodded gravely. "It would seem that congratulations are in order to you as well, Judge," he said. "Since you have undertaken to stand a'nirih to these boys."

Josiah smiled warmly. "My stepson here, and his lifemate, are members of Clan Short of Vulcan, in Captain Spock's Family," he said to the board. "Captain Spock can therefore validate what I am about to explain. Under the League of Nations treaty with Vulcan, they are regarded as having dual citizenship, of the United States and of Vulcan. And under Vulcan traditional law, they are regarded as adults under the law.

"This is not quite the case," Spock interjected. "Vulcan traditional law holds that when a youngling has attained to the knowledge and maturity to act in an adult manner as regards some aspect of life, it is only logical to regard him or her as an adult as regards that aspect of life. An example familiar to American Earth humans would be the obtaining of a license to operate an automobile. When the parents are satisfied that the child has sufficiently matured to safely do so, they cause him to obtain a permit, and after practice to perfect his skills, he is then examined by competent authority, who will if satisfied issue him such a license. To obtain full adult status, tradition calls for the kahs'wan, a test of endurance and skill."

Jonas had a look in his eye that Maureen recognized. "Uncle," he said, "I request Judging following the precedent set for Vincent, of my status and Harry's under the terms of the kahs'wan."

"I am at your service, nephew," Spock said formally. "Describe your ordeal."

"This past Saturday," Jonas said, "I was in battle for my life against six men from our local F.C.C. — and the parents of one of them have just filed suit against Harry and me for the death of their son." He gestured at Marco, sitting in the audience nearby.

"Indeed?" Spock said, his eyebrow raised. "We shall speak of this later. For a human citizen of Vulcan," he continued, "the ten days of the ordeal are waived. But the other elements are still required." His gaze fixed Jonas's. "Was your life in danger?"

"Yes."

"Was it placed in danger by your own free choice?"

"Yes; it was my duty to defend my mother, my stepfather, and my brothers and their a'nirih." His gesture included the Wentworths.

"Did you have food or water with you?"

"Not exactly. They were available in the house, but I was pinned down by the front window, unable to get to them even if I had wanted to."

"Were you alone?"

"Effectively so. My mother, my stepfather, George and Harry had been stunned — I believed killed at the time — and Philip laid out by what was intended as a lethal bolt. The little twins were there, in the next room, but had been sent into hiding for their own safety."

"So in terms of available help, you were effectively alone?"

"Yes."

"Did you fear that you might not survive?" Spock's question was gentle but firm.

"Yes, I fully expected that if I did not get them, they would get me."

Spock paused in contemplation. Across the room, Brian turned to Tanya. "I thought you were going out with Jonas," he said.

"Yeah, we were seeing each other, up until Friday," she answered. "I tried to manipulate him; it backfired on me."

"But what's this bit about him and Harry?" he asked.

"They've been friends since they were seven or eight," she said. "It took nearly getting killed to make them realize what they meant to each other. But, Dad, the important thing is this: when Danny got kidnapped, it was them who went and rescued him. I was there; I saw. They risked their lives for him. I thought I was going to be mad and jealous — but when they did that for my family, well...." She let the thought dwindle off, wordlessly begging her father to understand how she felt.

Brian drew his daughter close, and gave her a one-armed hug. "You're growing up, colleen," he said. "And I'm proud of you."

Spock spoke. "It is my judgment, Jonas, that you have fulfilled the requirements for the kahs'wan. Vulcan considers you an adult; I shall make the appropriate changes in Family records." He turned to Harry. "Describe your ordeal," he instructed him.

"On Monday," Harry said, "Peter transported us to New Jersey, where Jonas's half-brother Danny had run away from home, owing to neglect and derision from his stepfather."

Spock held up a hand to signal him to pause. "Have steps been taken to remove the boy from his care?"

"Yes," said Harry. "His mother separated from his father; they are seated over there." He gestured. "While a runaway, he was absconded with by fugitives from justice and beaten. We removed him from their custody. One of the kidnappers had a revolver, and fired on us. In the course of that fight, Skipper was wounded in the arm, Jonas was taken down by a bullet to the chest, and I had a scalp wound."

:And you chose to risk your life?" Spock asked.

"Yes, I did. When Jonas was taken down, I ran to him; that's how I was wounded."

"Did you take food or water with you?"

"No."

"Were you alone?"

"Skipper was conscious but injured. Peter was there but phase-shifted. Danny's mother and her friend were keeping her little girl safe. Her friend's son tried to help, but was untrained."

Spock's impassive gaze looked at Harry. "You were not alone. That event therefore fails to qualify as kahs'wan." Harry's visage fell.

 

---

 

Children's Services, Boston, back during the afternoon

Francis closed his cellphone, pleased with himself.

""Um, begging your pardon, sir..." Tory was afraid and shy; Francis smiled encouragingly at him. Pat placed his hand on the younger boy's back. "But what good is that going to do?"

"From what I've heard, we should find out shortly," Francis said with a smile. Bernie looked at him, wondering what was up his sleeve.

Shimmers in the air solidified into Pen, Doug, and Todd. The young blond Logan-clone drew his Beretta 9mm semi-automatic pistol and pointed it directly at the case worker. The policeman reached for his service weapon.

"Don't bother, sir," Pen told him. He was doing his best to keep the nervousness he felt on his first intervention out of his voice. "This is in accordance with law; the weapon is simply an assurance that everything will go smoothly. If it will make you feel more comfortable to draw your weapon, go ahead, but it is not necessary." The cop, caught unawares, looked skeptical.

Doug spoke up. "This is an intervention by Clan Short of Vulcan, as authorized under Article 200 of the Safe Haven Act of the United Federation of Planets," he stated formally. "Francis, would you explain why you called us?"

"This officer here," Francis began, "found these four boys squatting in a vacant apartment, without resources, and brought them in here. This case worker was attempting to find sites to place them when we arrived, encountered them in the coffee shop downstairs, and offered to take them."

"'Take them'?" Todd asked with a touch of asperity.

"Give them a home, foster them, become their guardians, adopt them — whatever they want the role to be," Bernie interjected. "If I were after a boy, I could have had that one" — he pointed to Benny — "much more cheaply than taking him into our home. And Francis is all I want … in my bed," he corrected. "These boys need a home where they can feel cared about, given the things Francis told me about what you had to say."

Todd's attitude change was instant. "I've seen too many cases of men using kids..." he started to say.

Bernie waved it off. "I could see that — I was offended, yeah, but I also knew you were ready to protect these boys, and I respect that."

"So why were we needed?" Todd asked.

"Well," Francis said, "it seems that the State of Massachusetts is more interested in processing paperwork than in helping kids, and that despite state law, the local services agency takes a dim view of gay couples adopting or fostering. The officer here can attest to that." He gestured at the policeman.

"Is that true, sir?" Pen asked him. Francis looked askance at him. "I don't doubt your word, Francis; I'm just backing it up for the record."

"The record?" scoffed the case worker.

"That would be me," came Seth's voice from the three commbadges.

"What Mr. Lagrange said is true," the officer stated.

"What about you four?" Pen asked. "I mean, I've known Francis and Bernie since I was little, but you don't know them. What do you want to do?"

Benny looked at Bernie. "I trust him; he's one of the few people to know just what I was up to and still give me some respect." His eyes flicked to the others. "Can we have a couple minutes to talk?"

"Of course," Doug said, forestalling the objection on the tip of the case worker's tongue.

The four boys stepped out of the office. "Well, there go four runners," the case worker said. "Are you ready to go chasing them?" she asked the cop.

"Lady," said Todd, "in a mobile home outside Los Chaves, New Mexico, lives a retired sheepherder, with his dog Pal. What you fail to get, here, is that as of five minutes ago, you have exactly as much authority over those four boys as you do over that old sheepherder."

The boys trooped back in the office. Pat gathered their eyes, then turned to Pen. "We'll go with them. Thanks for giving us a chance to say what we wanted."

"You'd do the same for me," Pen said back. It was not a question.

"Officer, please step over to the case worker's computer and pull up the Safe Haven Act, so you can be assured of the legality of what we are doing," Pen said. Allowing a slight smile to show, the policeman complied.

Pen drew a breath. "Ready, Seth?" he asked. His commbadge beeped acknowledgement. "Please describe their living conditions, officer," he requested.

"These four boys were staying in an abandoned apartment. Furnishings consisted of a decrepit couch and a mattress, and one side table. The only electric power came from one extension cord, and powered one lamp and one portable TV. They had no means of cooking or refrigerating food. For heat, they had a kerosene space heater that appeared to have been discarded at one time. Their dwelling conditions were below the standards set forth in Department of Health guidelines for referrals."

Todd looked at Blakey and Tory. "What connection were these older boys to you?"

Blakey spoke up. "We're not family, if that's what you mean. But Pat found us when we ran, and brought us there, and he and Benny took care of us, as best they could. I'd rather have them as my big brothers than the one I did have. Least they don't beat me or try to make me do stuff." Tory nodded, looking terrified.

"You, ma'am, were assigning them to different foster homes and such?"

"Of course. You can't keep younger boys and teenagers together; that's against good child services practice. And just who do you think you are, asking all these questions?"

The officer nudged her, and pointed to the computer monitor.

"I find that evidence has been produced to suggest these boys were housed in violation of Article 10 of the Safe Haven Act. I find that the Children's Services bureau of Boston, Massachusetts, has demonstrated negligence under Sections 81.1, 81.2, 81.3, and 81.9 of the Safe Haven Act. I find that they failed to accept an offer of housing for these boys proffered by Francis Lagrange and Bernard Halstead of this city for reasons that fall afoul of the State of Massachusetts Non-Discrimination Act of 2004." He flashed a smile at Francis, who had told his father and him about that law when it was first passed.

"Clan Short therefore assumes jurisdiction over these boys as provided in Article 200 of the Safe Haven Act and by the Clan Short Charter. Now let me ask, for the formal record, what I believe we've already determined. Bernie, Francis, do you stand ready to take these boys into your home as your wards? Do you affirm that you have adequate resources to provide for their needs and reasonable desires?"

"We do," Bernie said firmly.

"Do you, you, you, and you" he pointed at the four boys, "all accept Francis and Bernie as your guardians, agree to live with them and obey their reasonable expectations of you as children in their household?" Each of the boys hesitantly agreed.

"Um, Francis, should this be temporary or permanent placement?" Pen asked.

Bernie spoke up. "After what I've seen today, we're in it for the long haul. The boys are welcome to live with us as long as they choose. But maybe you should make it a temporary placement, to give them an out if they don't like it?"

Tory and Blakey looked scared. Pat noticed. He looked Benny in the eyes and then said, "Just you offering that the way you did, plus how these guys looked at the idea it would only be temporary, tells me all I need to know. Make it permanent, sir," he said to Pen.

"No 'sir' needed, I'm Pen, and these guys are Doug and Todd," Pen said. "The only difference between us is, the three of us signed up for the fight against people who abuse and hurt kids, and leave them to have to live like you guys were. We got helped; we're passing that help along."

"Where do we sign up?" asked Benny.

"You just did," came Seth's voice from the commbadges.

Pen grinned. "Plan on a trip to Orlando, Bernie," he said.

"The Magic Kingdom?" Bernie asked.

"You could call it that," Doug grinned. "At least, Seth usually has a prince in his bed."

An embarrassed "Hey, now" came from the commbadges. Most of the boys laughed.

"All right, then," said Pen. He collected full names from the four boys, formalized the placement of them with Francis and Bernie, and then "And it is logical, and within the power granted me as a member of Clan Short, to give orders that appropriate paperwork satisfactory to the State of Massachusetts be immediately made out assigning custody as ordered, and citing the grounds herein stated."

"That's your cue," the policeman said to the case worker. She looked at him in question. "You've been ordered by a court of competent jurisdiction to produce the official state paperwork granting custody to these two men."

"I shall do no such thing," she said. "They are just teenagers! And you should arrest that one who pulled a gun on me!"

"Young man, your ID, please," the cop said to Pen. Wordlessly, he pulled it out and displayed it.

"He is what he claimed to be," the cop said. "I was following along in the document he had me open, here. He has every right to do what he just did. In fact, you probably owe him thanks for not ordering your arrest for violation of Article 81. Now, get to work, or I will do what he didn't, and arrest you myself."

Grumbling, she set to work. Todd stood impassively, pistol turned away from her but kept in hand.

At last, she finished. "Here," she said truculently, handing it to the cop. Bernie read over his shoulder. He handed it to Pen.

"Two things," Pen said. "State the grounds for assuming jurisdiction: your failure to act under Article 81; and at the end, where it says "By order of the Governor and General Court," change that to "By order of Clan Short of Vulcan."

She took it back and made the necessary changes. Pen took it and signed it, handed it to Doug to countersign, then to Francis. "Well, you two have kids now," he said with a grin.

"That's not quite what I planned on this morning," Bernie chuckled. "Want to come up for dinner? Doug's never seen our place. And having more young people around might make it easier on these guys."

"That sounds good," Pen said. "But it needs to be an early meal; Father wants us back for the Selectmen's meeting tonight, for reasons you already know, Francis."

They all turned to leave. Then Benny stopped in the hall, turned to the cop, and said, "I never thought I'd be saying something like this, but, thanks, sir. You kept your word."

"It was my duty ... and my pleasure … to help you boys," the cop said, smiling.

 

---

 

And in Arkham, that evening

"I'm sorry, Jonas; I've failed us," Harry said sadly, not caring any more that they were in the middle of a crowded meeting.

"We will resolve this," Jonas said. "Here, bro, lean on me for strength, and stop stressing. Then put that creative mind of yours to work to figure out what we can do now."

Abbie reached out and slightly up, steering her teenage son firmly into Jonas's arms. "Ye won't give up now, Harry Bertram Johnson," she said sharply. "I've seen you moon about too long, and you've come this close to finding your dream. Listen to Jonas, now, and pull yourself together."

Spock cleared his throat. "Harry, Jonas asked that I Judge you and him under the rule of the kahs'wan, and that was only logical, since you are the sons of a Vulcan House and Family, and entitled to claim your adulthood under the traditions of our people."

"But," he went on, "beyond being members of a Vulcan House, you both hold another distinction which is relevant to what you propose here." His gaze went to their chests and waists again. "Before this board, I charge you to explain how it comes to be that you carry Starfleet-issue phasers, which are restricted technology."

Jonas was sure he detected a twinkle in Spock's eye. He drew his breath and proceeded, "On the weekend of October 15-17, Harry and I were at the Short Compound in Orlando, Florida, where we were trained in the use of phaser and communicator by Matthew Barnes and James J. Richardson. At the conclusion of that training, our instructors took our oath and J.J. then issued us our phasers and communicators."

"Do you recall the terms of that oath?" Spock asked.

"Not really," Jonas said.

Harry spoke up. In a dispirited voice, he said, "We promised to use our weapon as logic dictated, and to perform our duties as members of Clan Short Security in conformance with the traditions of Vulcan and the regulations of Starfleet. I assume that last part is because our phasers are Starfleet issue."

"It was necessary to explain this to Sean and Cory as well," Spock said reminiscently. "You both are sworn members of Clan Short Security, correct?"

"Right," said Jonas.

"And as such, you both hold reserve commissions as Ensigns in Starfleet, detached to Clan Short Security and to complete your educations," Spock said.

Turning to the Selectmen, Spock then said, "Under the terms of the laws and regulations of Starfleet, any person who is a commissioned officer in Starfleet is to be regarded by Starfleet and by all Federation member governments as adult members of their own species. This rule was necessary as there are species which attain full maturity at six Earth standard years and species which do not attain full maturity until their fiftieth year. To have a legal age of majority would either work an injustice to short-lived species or be so complex as to be difficult for those without perfect memory to apply. The standard of qualifying for a commission was therefore logical to substitute."

He paused. "As their a'nirih within Family Clan Short and in the name of Starfleet, I must therefore insist on your regarding these two young men as full adults in all manners related to law. To do otherwise would not only be illogical but an insult to my Family and House, and to Vulcan." Spock's visage was sternly impassive.

"You cannot come in here and tell us what to do," Ethel said with asperity.

George spoke up. "When did you get your law degree, Ethel?" he asked sarcastically. "As a lawyer myself, and the man charged with prosecuting violations of the law around here, I can affirm to the board that under the treaties creating the United Federation of Planets, the Federation is to leave its member planets, nations, tribes, and so on autonomous until and unless Federation law becomes relevant. Then Federation law is supreme over member law, just as the Supreme Court is powerless to act unless there is a Federal question, but when there is, it supersedes state law and courts. Captain Spock has just defined for us how Federation law is relevant here. It is now your duty, Ethel, to grant these two the license you refused them Tuesday."

Ethel sniffed. "I don't have to like it. And I don't. But they can come to my office tomorrow after 9:00, like anyone else."

Arthur spoke up. "'Anyone else' was not denied their legal right by you for your own personal reasons, Ethel. I move," he continued, addressing the other Selectmen, "that the Arkham Town Clerk be directed by this Board to immediately proceed to her office, fifty feet away in this same building, obtain the requisite forms and her embossing stamp, return here, and issue a marriage license as required by law."

"Second," Marybeth's voice rang out.

Hank called for discussion. "This is absurd and unprecedented," Don said. "I don't want to see this town exposed to the sort of legal actions and protests such actions result in."

"A bit late to be worrying about lawsuits," wouldn't you say?" Marybeth asked rhetorically.

"I can assure you," Josiah said, "that if that license is not issued, Jonas and Harry will be advised by their lawyer to file suit against the town."

"Who's their lawyer?" Hank asked, curious.

"Me," said Josiah, grinning hugely.

"And I bear witness," Spock interjected, "that the Family of Sarek and the House of Surak will join in that suit, in behalf of two of its members. It is Admiral Morrow's decision as to whether Starfleet will also enter as a party, but I can assure you that precedent indicates that he will assume jurisdiction, in behalf of two Ensigns on detached duty under his command."

"Call the question!" said Don quickly. "I vote aye." Arthur and Marybeth both voted "Aye" as well.

"Carried unanimously," Hank announced. "Get your bottom in gear, Ethel." She stood and stalked out angrily.

"Now, Attorney Annunziata," Spock said, turning to him ominously.

 

---

 

Revere Suites

Pen was amused by the four boys' reactions to Bernie and Francis's apartment. All four were wide-eyed at the décor and furnishings — as, surprisingly, was Doug. He'd expected Doug to be accustomed to high style from his father's mansion. But the modern style of the loft apparently hit him in a way that the more traditional furnishings in the Throxton home had not.

Tory sat nervously on the very edge of one chair. "Um, sir, where do we live?" he said in a small voice.

"This is it," Bernie said with a smile. "This is the great room, over there is the kitchen, through that door are our offices, and the bedroom suites are down here." He paused. "Uh, we put queen-size beds in both bedrooms of the guest suite. I hope you boys won't mind sharing a double bed, two to a bed, for a day or two until we can have individual beds delivered."

Pat scoffed. "We slept on one mattress together. We can share a bed, sure." What he didn't say was that they'd probably all prefer it that way.

"Okay, I'll be starting dinner, so Pen and Doug and Todd can get back to Arkham," Francis said. "After dinner, we can go over and pick up your belongings from the old apartment."

"Yeah, my other shirt is over there," Blakey said. "And my mom's picture, and my other shirt and pants," Tory added.

"Your other shirt and pants?" Bernie said. "You have one change of clothes?"

"Well, we kind of have to," Tory said. "During the summer, we could be naked except for who went to the laundromat, but now it's colder, we need to wear something."

"We have to take them to get some new clothes — tonight!" Bernie said to Francis, who nodded agreement firmly.

"Why? We all got a change, except there's just the one change of pants for the two little guys," Pat offered.

"Oh, for heaven's sake, you need more than one change of clothes," Be3rnie exploded. "You need at least four or five outfits each. And those things don't look like they fit you very well."

"Well, it was what we could find at the thrift shop," Benny said. "They don't always have much for boys."

"What they're saying, guys," Todd said knowledgeably, "is that they plan to buy you a whole lot of stuff, treat you like you ought to have been treated."

All four boys were thunderstruck.

"Come with me, I'll show you your rooms," Bernie said to them. "Pen, you know what our guest suite is like; does it meet Clan standards?"

Pen laughed. "It's more than sufficient. The important part is for you guys to connect, to form a family." He turned serious. "Benny, Pat, I've known these two a long time. From some of the stories I've heard, my guess is that you're a little leery of trusting them, and maybe thinking what you'll have to do in return. You probably won't believe me, so I'll just say, keep an open mind. What they're doing, they're doing because they care, and because you deserve it. And what they expect of you is only what good parents should: don't get in trouble, go to school and apply yourself, learn to trust them and let them know what's on your mind, that kind of stuff."

Doug chuckled. "You sound like Ms Kilbride when you get going like that!" he laughed.

"Aack! Really?!" Pen was chagrined.

"I get it," Pat answered. "You realize why we might not be ready to open up with these two gentlemen, and you're trying to let us know it's safe, right?" Pen and Doug nodded yes. "Okay, we get the message. But," he looked at Francis and Bernie, "you gotta give us time. We got burned too many times."

"Benny and we have shared some customers, though what we and he sold them was quite different," Bernie said. "So I at least get the message: you need to be sure we're on the level, not creeps like them, before you can let down your guard. That's okay. We expected there'd need to be time to adjust. Just give us the same time to adjust, too — we're not used to having boys around the house, either."

"It's a deal, man!" Benny said for all four of them.

 

---

 

Blakey was impressed with the French onion soup. "This is good!" he exclaimed, "especially with the cheese grated onto it." Bernie and Pen chuckled at his enthusiasm. Doug brought in the small salads drizzled with a white-wine vinaigrette that Francis had prepared.

But the entrée was what finally won Benny and Pat over: chicken Florentine over linguine. All seven boys dug in like it was ambrosia — which for some of them may not have been far from the truth. "We got some good cooks that came to help out at our base," Todd said to Francis, "but I never had anything like this."

"It was really simple to prepare," Francis said modestly. "That's why I picked it for tonight. Wait until I really have time to cook!"

"Don't forget to save room for dessert, guys," Bernie laughed at the ravenous boys.

Tory's eyes were wide. "Dessert, too!"

"All right, let's talk about this evening," Francis said. "Pen, I guess you three will be heading out?"

"Yeah, Father wants us present for the Selectmen meeting tonight. It should be interesting, after the fire you and he lit under them." Pen grinned. "We'll probably ask to be beamed back right after dinner — if you guys are feeling like you're going to be OK?" he added, the question directed at the four rescuees.

Benny nodded. "I think we're gonna be happy here."

"Just be sure to let us know how you're feeling," Bernie said to him. "I can guess the change is going to be overwhelming. Don't be afraid to talk it out with us — and I assume they can call you guys too?" he asked Pen.

"Of course — you know the number; make sure they have it if they want to talk, okay?" Pen said.

"Okay, then let's Francis and me take you four out to buy clothes and things," Bernie continued. "Probably use the Escalade; we'd be too crowded to be comfortable in the Beemer, and the Esprit is out of the question." Francis nodded.

"You have three cars?" Benny's eyes were wide.

"Wait till you see them!" Pen said with a chuckle.

 

---

 

And at the Town Hall, that evening

"May I see that form, please," Spock politely asked Harry. Wordlessly, he handed it over to the Vulcan, who read it thoroughly.

"Attorney Annunziata?" Spock said. "It appears that this document is a summons to young Mr. Johnson here, commanding him to appear in the District Court in and for the County of Franklin in this state, to defend himself against a suit for wrongful death brought by Edgar and Elizabeth Wheeler as the parents and executors of one Ralph Wheeler, deceased. Is this correct?"

"It is, sir," Marco replied. "He and the McConnaghay boy shot him with those phaser things on the front lawn of Maureen McConnaghay's house last Saturday."

"I see," said Spock." As it happens, my mother-in-law transferred to me the contents of the mind melds she performed earlier today on these two boys, or I should say young men."

"Now, let me review some information for your benefit. First, the late Mr. Wheeler was a member of the First Fundamentalist Church of Christ here, and in fact was at the time of his death acting under the direction of that church's pastor." It was not a question; Spock was aware of what T'Pol had learned from Jonas and Harry in mind meld.

Marco nodded. "I fail to see what their religious affiliation has to do with it."

"On October 18, Lt. Gabriel Michaels of Starfleet Security, who was acting head of Clan Short Security, contacted the offices of Admiral Harrison Morrow of Starfleet and of the Vulcan Ambassador. He caused them to be aware that acts of war had been committed against persons under the protection of Clan Short by the Fundamentalist Church of Christ, and confirmed with both that a state of war existed between that church and Clan Short, and by inference with Vulcan itself."

"On October 23, forces belonging to the Fundamentalist Church of Christ carried out a series of coordinated attacks against persons and places connected with Clan Short, including in Missoula, Montana, and here. Mr. Wheeler was killed while attempting to shoot, in cold blood, young Mr. Johnson here, Maureen and Jonas McConnaghay, the judge here, and Mr. Wentworth over there and his sons, using contraband restricted weaponry."

"Now, the State of Maine is a constituent part of the United States of America, which is a member of the League of Nations, which was and is a founding member of the United Federation of Planets. Under the terms and conditions of the treaty creating the U.F.P., I, as a Vice Admiral in Starfleet on the retired list, now hereby exercise my prerogative to assume jurisdiction in the name of the Federation.

"I formally adjudge Mr. Wheeler's death an act of war, regarding which no wrongful death lawsuit can be filed."

The Wentworth twins were bouncing up and down. Spock turned toward them and his expression softened. "You have information for me, younglings?"

Randy and Drew stopped bouncing, stood at full attention, and their faces blanked. "It is our duty, sir," Randy said for them, "to inform you that he talked them into it."

Spock's eyebrow quirked. "Indeed?" Abruptly he grabbed the attorney's shoulder, and put him into a brief mind meld. "Marco Annunziata," he said as he broke the meld, "I find that you should refund the sum of one thousand American dollars which you took from Edgar and Elizabeth Wheeler as a retainer for this case. You are, further, fined five times that amount, to be paid to an appropriate charity for needy youth to be designated by Judge Brewster. And you are enjoined from any further efforts to foment dissension, for your own personal gain, from the tragic events of this past week."

"You got that recorded, Ethel?" Josiah asked.

"It wasn't Town business," she answered curtly.

"It was a judicial decision made during a session of this Board for which you were recording the minutes," Arthur said. "Now enter it in the minutes."

"I will expect to see you at the courthouse Monday, Marco," Josiah spoke up, "with a check in your hand." Spock nodded gravely.

 

---

 

After that, the rest of the meeting was somewhat anticlimactic, with the Selectmen adopting resolutions to pay bills, an agreement with the county for winter plowing, and similar bookkeeping tasks. Spock took a seat next to Josiah, and sat through the meeting, his expression imperturbable. As the meeting closed, Josiah motioned to Jonas, and they walked forward, retrieving the marriage license that had caused the furore earlier. Ethel's attitude was less than pleasant, but she knew better than to go against what the board had ordered.

As they rejoined Maureen, Abbie, Harry, and Peter, Tanya came over, dragging her parents, Kelly and Danny, and Rachel (who had apparently been sitting in a back row unnoticed) along. With a serious look on her face, she said, "Harry, I want to be the first to wish you two good luck, and to thank you again for bringing Aunt Kelly and Danny back to us. And I want your permission for something." She stepped forward and whispered in Harry's ear, causing expressions of consternation and then pleased acceptance to flash across his face.

"Sure!" he grinned.

Tanya stepped forward and took both Jonas's hands in her own. "Jonas," she said, "I want you to know, first, that I enjoyed our time together, and second, that I'm terribly sorry that I used you, made you into a trophy stud boyfriend to impress my friends. I've woken up to a lot of things this past week, including seeing enough of myself in what Tony was doing to feel guilty, and realizing from what you two did down in Jersey what love really is. I guess what I'm saying is, I'm sorry, I'm asking your forgiveness, and if I can have it, your friendship. And I want to be the first one to wish you and Harry good luck." She moved in, gave Jonas a solid kiss that was not romantic so much as filled with warmth, affection, and a promise of loyal friendship. As she broke from the kiss, she turned to Harry, said, "That goes double for you. I tried to edge you out of Jonas's life, and you paid me back, not by hating me, but by saving my cousin's life." And she planted a kiss on the nonplussed Harry too.

Then she motioned Rachel forward. The Jewish girl was uncharacteristically shy that night. "Good luck, Jonas," she said. "Forgive me for what I pulled on you last Friday?"

"Any time you see me being that much of an idiot, Rachel," Jonas answered her, "you have my permission in advance to kick me in the butt like you did then, and my thanks for doing it." He gave her a warm hug, and she planted a chaste kiss on his lips, blushed, broke from his embrace, turned to Harry, drew him into an embrace and kissed him firmly, turned, and rushed away.

"I'd better go comfort her," Tanya said. "Talk to you two later, okay?" And she was gone, following after Rachel.

Danny's eyes were bulging. "You're gonna get married?" he asked in a voice tinged with something that sounded like awe.

"Yep, little brother, as soon as we can make arrangements," Jonas answered him. "You're going to be there, right?" Danny grinned and nodded yes emphatically. Kelly made as if to draw him away to take him home.

Spock cleared his throat to attract their attention.

"Oh, for heaven's sakes," Jonas said. "I've totally lost my manners. Captain, may I present my mother, Maureen McConnaghay, my soon-to-be-stepfather, Judge Josiah Brewster....." One by one he introduced the group around him. "Everyone, this is Captain Spock of Starfleet, First Officer of the Enterprise, and our uncle in the Family of Sarek."

"I must correct an error of which you were not aware, nephew," Spock said. "As of this afternoon, I was promoted to Vice Admiral and my request to be placed on the retired list was granted. As a flag officer, I remain an officer of Starfleet, but I have left active service to be there for my son and his Clan brothers, who are now also my sons by adoption, in a'nirih relationship."

Harry nodded. "Logical; Joel needs his sa'mekh." His and Spock's eyes met in understanding.

"It was, however, logical that I remain through the duration of the meeting just ended," Spock continued, "in order that I might make myself available for a pleasant duty towards these two..." his gesture singled out Harry and Jonas "and you who have parented them." His gaze rested on Josiah and Maureen as he concluded. "Have you made arrangements to solemnize your marriage yet?" he asked Maureen.

"Uh, no," she answered. "I'd called Pastor Tucker, but the church won't be available...."

Spock held up his hand. "As a command-rank officer in Starfleet, it is within the scope of my authority to preside at weddings, and it would be ... fitting to offer my services to join together these two young men for whom I stand as a'nirih, and also the ko'mekh and other a'nirih of one of them."

Maureen looked nonplussed. Harry translated, "As a Starfleet officer, he can marry people, preside at their weddings. He is offering to marry us, and you two as well, if you want him to."

Jonas's eyes met Harry's. He turned to Spock and said, "It would be an honor to us if you would preside at our wedding, Admiral."

Josiah looked at Maureen. "My dear, I defer to your wishes, but if the choice were mine, I would take Spock up on his offer."

Maureen smiled warmly. "Sure, and won't that make my ancestors sit up in their graves and take notice? I would be deeply honored, Captain … Admiral Spock." Without conscious will, her hand reached out and joined with Josiah's.

"When would you wish to have the ceremony?" Spock asked. "I do not wish to be long away from my son, but I can return with him when you wish."

"Now," said Jonas with resolve.

"Now?" Maureen asked.

"Now," a smiling Harry confirmed.

"Now," Josiah said firmly. Maureen nodded acquiescence, with a look of love at her husband to be.

"It shall be as you wish," Spock answered them. "And may I say that it is gratifying to me to perform this duty for you who have vowed membership in my Family..." his glance took in the two boys "...and you who have nurtured them."

He looked at the group which was gathered around them: two Selectmen, Arthur Broadnax and Marybeth Summerville; Abbie; the O'Ryans, with Tanya; Skipper, Bobby, Grace, Brandon, and Andy; the two Throxtons and Doug; Peter; Rachel; Todd Casey; old Christopher Sarles; the Wentworths; and a few townspeople from the meeting.

"My people," he said to them, "put the utmost emphasis on the idea of Family. Even our social structure proclaims this to all people, of all species. I am Spock, son of Sarek, of the Family of Sarek and the House of Surak, the senior house of Ektra-Maat T'Khasi, the house of all houses to which all Vulcans belong. My mother was of Earth, the daughter of Jeffrey Grayson, acrobat and scholar, and I know that the peoples of Earth see Family as being as important as Vulcans do. And the foundation of Family is the bond of love expressed in marriage, into which Maureen and Josiah, and Jonas and Harry, this evening propose to enter. I call you assembled here to stand witness to their union."

Spock turned to the four. "Harry, Jonas, I know you experienced a mind-meld with my mother-in-law earlier in the day. Will you consent to another mind meld with me at this time?" Both boys expectantly nodded yes. "And will you two consent as well?" he asked Maureen and Josiah. "It is not necessary, but if you will, I may be able to impart a gift from my people to you."

"It is a warm and healing thing, mother," Jonas said solicitously.

"Sure, and I have never turned down a new experience from fear!" Maureen said, a touch of her heritage in her voice.

Josiah smiled. "Where my bride goes, so do I. What should we do, Admiral?"

"You need only stand still, while I place my hands on your temples," Spock said. He motioned Josiah to him. "My mind to your mind, my thoughts to your thoughts...."

Methodically, the veteran Starfleet Admiral entered a brief mind meld with each of the four. As he dropped his hands from Harry's head, the last of the four, he allowed himself a brief smile. "It is as I hoped," he said. He composed himself and looked at the two couples and the group around them.

In a deep, resonant voice like a gong, Spock called out, "Let it begin."

"We are gathered here this evening," he addressed the group gathered around, "to join Josiah Brewster and Maureen McConnaghay, and Jonas McConnaghay and Harry Johnson, in marriage, according to the laws of this state and nation, of the United Federation of Planets, and by the traditions of my people, of whom the younger couple are members by adoption." He paused, checking the memories he had drawn from Josiah. "I am required to ask that if any person can show just cause why these couples should not be joined in marriage, that he speak now, or thereafter remain silent."

Picking up her minutes book and other supplies from the head table, Ethel Townsend made a noise as if to object. Arthur and Marybeth wheeled at the sound. Seeing the scowls on their faces warning her, she quailed, picked up her materials, and stalked off in the direction of her office.

"According to the customs of your people, Josiah," Spock said formally, "I charge you to take Maureen's hand and pledge to her your wedding vow."

Drawing on Josiah's memories of having presided over weddings in the past, Spock fed Josiah the words of the vow, phrase by phrase, and, holding Maureen's hands in his own, Josiah slowly pledged to her, "I, Josiah Lowell, take thee, Maureen Brigid. ... to be my wife … to have and to hold … from this day forward … in sickness and in health, … for richer or for poorer, … and I pledge my love to you … so long as we both shall live."

With joy and love radiating from her face, Maureen then repeated the vows to Josiah: "I, Maureen Brigid, take thee, Josiah Lowell, ... to be my husband … to have and to hold … from this day forward … in sickness and in health, … for richer or for poorer, … and I pledge my love to you … so long as we both shall live."

Jonas and Peter were wearing broad smiles as they witnessed the exchange of vows.

As Maureen completed her vows and loosed Josiah's hand, Abbie caught her eye. She nodded, and the two women stepped over to their sons. Each took her son's right hand, raised it, and joined it firmly to the other boy's left hand. Then Abbie leaned forward and kissed Harry on his cheek, and Maureen echoed the action with Jonas. Each then rested her hand on her own son's shoulder, and Josiah stepped forward and joined his hand to Maureen's on Jonas's shoulder.

Spock again began the periodic recital of the vows, and Jonas echoed him: "I, Jonas Patrick, take thee, Harry Bertram. ... to be my life partner … to have and to hold … from this day forward … in sickness and in health, … for richer or for poorer, … and I pledge my love to you … so long as we both shall live."

Harry's heart was bursting with joy as he echoed Spock: "I, Harry Bertram, take thee, Jonas Patrick, ... to be my life partner … to have and to hold … from this day forward … in sickness and in health, … for richer or for poorer, … and I pledge my love to you … so long as we both shall live."

Spock however was not yet done. As the boys broke the clasping of their hands, he stepped forward and briefly renewed his mind meld with Josiah and then with Maureen. As he broke the meld, he said, "Raise thy hands and rest them on thy beloved's temples." With a surprised expression, Josiah and Maureen did as he instructed. "Repeat after me," he continued, "My mind to your mind, my heart to your heart, my love to your love." They repeated his words, surprised at what he was doing. A sense of awe came across their features. They looked questioningly at Spock; he motioned them to wait.

He repeated the procedure with the two boys — brief meld followed by instructions to adopt the mindmeld posture, and the short formula resembling that for initiating a mindmeld. Shortly Jonas and Harry's expressions resembled those of Josiah and Maureen. They too looked at him in question, and were surprised to see him smiling broadly.

"The mind-meld which seals the marriage of my people is not something that Earth humans are capable of," he said warmly. "But I knew from T'Pol's meld with the boys that they were among the humans who could enter into the tel-tor, and you..." he looked at Josiah and Maureen "… also proved capable of it. You are bonded according to the deepest traditions of my people. Not being telepaths, you do not have the telepathic aspect of the bond, but each of you will find strength in your mate, each will know without conscious thought the feelings of your mate, each will be truly joined in mind and heart to your life mate."

Their expressions were of awed amazement. Peter came running up, leapt into Josiah's arms and hugged him. After hugging him back, he passed the little Mikyvis off to Maureen to collect a hug, she to Jonas, and he to Harry.

Josiah turned to Spock. "On behalf of my family" — and his gesture included Maureen, Jonas, Harry, and Peter — "thank you for this precious gift. And for your intervention this evening."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "It was only logical to do so," he said dryly. "Peter, might I prevail on you to take me to my son?" Peter grinned agreement. "Live long and prosper!" Spock said, and they vanished.

"Let's go home!" Maureen said. Smiling, Josiah took his wife's hand and led her to the door. Jonas took Harry's hand firmly and they followed.

 

---

 

Clan Short Archivist Review Notes:

This chapter is a wonderful trip through Arkham and we again learned more about our loved characters and the charming town they live. I am really enjoying the way the Clan works in Arkham as they try to co-exist with the local government instead of becoming the local government.

The double wedding was a very nice touch and I hope it begins the healing necessary for all involved.

I am confident that the next chapter will be as entertaining as this one.

The Story Lover