Disc: I do not own Star Trek, and no profit is being made off of this.

A/N: Ok, I don't really know where this story came from. It just sorta popped into my head. I had previously posted it at like two in the morning yesterday, and then abraxis left me some helpful ideas, so I am reposting this story now. Hopefully you like it! Please review--I really appreciate any feedback!

Saavik was bone-tired. The events on the Genesis planet had left her drained. The whole affair had been an emotional roller coaster—from the sadness at seeing Spock's burial tube again, to her joy at seeing Spock alive, to her pain at his suffering rapid aging, to her anger at David for using unstable protomatter, to her despair at David's death, and finally her relief at being beamed up to the Klingon vessel. It had been a tumultuous 48 hours, and all she wanted to do was retire to her cabin and sleep. This was not to be, however, as Dr. McCoy had commed her two point three five minutes after her shift had ended to ask her to come to Sickbay. Having no time to even stop by her quarters to drop off her tricorder, she suppressed a sigh, and, unconsciously straightening her uniform, left for Sickbay.

She entered Sickbay to find Dr. McCoy sitting at a desk in front of a computer terminal. Clearing her throat to alert him to her presence, he turned around, and flashed her a weary smile. "Why, hello Saavik. I'm terribly sorry to bother you—I know you must be tired—but I have an urgent question for you."

"No apology is necessary, Doctor. I am a Vulcan. Therefore, I am accustomed to going without sleep for many days. What is it that requires my assistance?" she asked. Despite his tendency to overreact emotionally, she was rather fond of the good doctor.

"Do you have tricorder readings from the Genesis planet's surface? I was wondering if how exactly Spock and the planet were connected." She pondered his request and deemed it quite logical. She herself was not quite sure how Spock had been revived—she was merely pleased that he had been.

As she had her tricorder with her, she nodded her assent and handed it over to him. She had taken off her red Starfleet jacket, and as such, was only wearing her white command turtleneck. As McCoy reached for her tricorder, he noticed several dark green stains on her otherwise spotless uniform undershirt. "Saavik, what are those from?" His voice was laden with concern, and she withdrew her arms from him hastily, clasping them behind her back.

"They are of no importance, Doctor," she said calmly. McCoy, however, was not so easily convinced.

"Saavik, let me see your wrists. What happened?" he asked again. Apparently, he was not going to give up unless she told him how great bruises had appeared on her wrists.

"It is nothing, Dr. McCoy. While on the planet's surface, I fell against a rock during one of the spontaneous earthquakes. The bruises are merely a result of my carelessness." She despised lying, but there was no way she was going to tell him where those injuries had come from.

Doctor McCoy got a strange look in his eyes, a look Saavik didn't like at all. She began backing up slowly, groping for the com unit she knew was on the wall behind her. McCoy was advancing on her, almost menacingly, and desperately she punched the com unit and cried, "Admiral Kirk! Come to sickbay at once! Admiral to sickbay at on—"

McCoy quickly closed the distance between them and closed the connection suddenly. He grabbed her wrists with one hand and forced her against the wall. She didn't recall McCoy's strength being this great before. She struggled against him, but he was too strong. She couldn't get away.

"I must confess I am disappointed in you. I thought I instilled in you the Vulcan belief of abstaining from telling lies, Saavikam," said McCoy, doing a very good Spock impersonation.

She ceased struggling against him, shocked at hearing Spock's nickname for her fall from Dr. McCoy's lips. "What did you call me?" she asked, angrily. Instead of replying, he reached for her face, his hand outstretched. "What are you doing?" she asked again, a note of fear in her voice. He touched her face, seeking out the meld-points. McCoy is a human! How can he perform a mind-meld? a little voice in her mind asked. Then she felt a mind touch hers, and Sickbay dissolved around her.

Spock had been her everything, ever since he rescued her from the living nightmare that was Hellguard. He had been a substitute father, overseeing her education and upbringing, sponsoring her at the Academy, finally settling into the role of mentor and friend. He was the only other living being Saavik trusted wholeheartedly. He was the first to treat her like a civilized Vulcan, something the unwanted halfbreed child had never experienced before. She read about his exploits with awe and wonder.

She was unsure when exactly she began to feel more than admiration for Spock. Sometime after her rapid promotion to lieutenant while most of her classmates were still cadets, perhaps. Although outwardly, she shunned the notion of love, deeming it too illogical, she couldn't help but feel his pull on her soul.

Saavik knew that, logically, she could never give voice to her thoughts. Not only was love illogical, but the repercussions of such an admission would cause severe damage to both of their careers. Spock was a captain, after all; having a relationship with one of the trainees under his command would permanently stain his record. She settled for simply being Spock's protégée, nothing more. That was enough—she was happy. But she never could totally repress the part of her brain that wondered what it would be like to be bonded to Spock.

Then Khan had ruined any hope of her ever being happy again. When she heard about Spock's selfless act, she felt betrayed. How could he have left her all alone? When she had been a child on Hellguard, and he had rescued her, he had promised never to leave her all by herself again. And here he had broken his pledge! How dare he leave her now, when she needed him the most? It was a struggle for her to reign in her emotions, but once she had them in check again, she vowed to never feel emotions again. She now understood why Spock had pursued the KohlinahrEmotions—love in particular—were harmful. They only brought pain.

She only had one regret. At his funeral, she wished fervently that she would have had the courage to tell Spock how she felt about him. Even though she knew he would withdraw from her after her confession, she believed that the pain she would have felt at his absence would have been preferable to the pain she felt now, knowing that there was no longer anything she could do to ease her mind.

Then, on the Genesis planet, Spock had been found alive. Saavik was overjoyed, although she hid it from David. And her joy quickly turned to sorrow when she realized that Spock's katra was gone. He did not recognize her, could not understand her speech, either in Standard or in Vulcan.

Then came the pain. Saavik was standing at the mouth of the cave, watching a teenaged Spock shaking uncontrollably under the power of the plak tow. She realized he would die if the pon farr was left…untreated. Though it pained her to offer her body and dignity to her former mentor, captain, and friend, she knew he had been granted a second chance at life. It would be illogical for her to deny him his future because of her modesty. How could she let him die again? She had been in so much pain at his funeral, and she knew her heart would surely break if she had to experience that agony again.

How many times had Saavik wished to be intimate with Spock! But never in her wildest dreams had she pictured the circumstances like this. This was not the Spock she had known and admired since she was a child. Indeed, he was wild, uncontrolled, deep in the blood fever. He took her body forcefully and painfully in the dank cave, unknowingly hurting her again and again throughout the seemingly endless night. His hormones reigned supreme, and he could not possibly have known that his relieving the blood fever would injure her so, both physically and mentally. Here, here was proof of the galaxy's cruel sense of humor. Because Saavikhad fulfilled her dream of being intimate with Spock, and he did not even know who she was! And since his katra was gone, he would never remember her.

When the blood fever had passed, Spock drifted into sleep, leaving Saavikto clean her injuries and repair as best she could her wounded soul. By the time he awoke, she was a picture-perfect Vulcan again. She feared that if, by some miracle, Spock's katra lived inside another, and he ever found out what she did, he would shun her, angry that she had twisted the situation to fulfill some sick fantasy she had regarding him. Saavik could not bear it if Spock thought her to be nothing more than a manipulative Romulan, and so she vowed never to tell Spock what had passed between them.

McCoy ended the mind-meld, but he was still holding her against the wall. She didn't care—the meld had left her drained and she no longer had the energy to resist him. Indeed, if he hadn't been holding her up, she would have collapsed to the deck. She was briefly aware that McCoy was talking, but it was Spock's voice that spoke to her. "You saved me, Saavikam." His voice was filled with wonder and admiration.

Saavik was speechless. How could McCoy sound so much like Spock? Unless…

Again McCoy spoke. "Rest assured, Saavikam, I do not find your affection distasteful. And I am honored that you willingly sacrificed your dignity to save my life. Thank you."

She nodded weakly. "I would do anything for you, Spock." It was the truth, and they both knew it.

Her knees were beginning to buckle, and blackness was closing in on the corners of her vision. The doors to Sickbay swished open, and Kirk rushed in. He took one look around, then ran to McCoy and pulled him off of her. Without his support, Saavik collapsed to the deck. She heard Kirk shouting at McCoy, asking what the hell he had been doing. She was aware of someone (Sulu, perhaps?) lifting her onto a biobed. Then Kirk was standing next to her, asking what had happened, but Saavik had no energy left to reply. As she succumbed to the darkness, her last conscious thought was that her loss of dignity had not been for naught. Her suffering had been worth it.

Spock's katra lived.