My inspiration for this story is the DeviantArt work entitled, 'At Your Best, You Are Love' by kara-lija. Dear artist, thank you for the inspiration. In addition, if you happen to view the picture, please note, Spock's eyes are open.

Differences

As he lay in bed with his wife, he was truly amazed at how he had reached this point in his life. This life of satisfaction he owed to his K'diwa, who was displayed before him like a priceless painting. So Spock, a Vulcan who is logic driven, order entrenched, possessed with creating lists, began to enumerate their differences.

Of course, the most obvious was they were male and female. However, as he looked at his pale hand against her rich mahogany skin that was a difference that all could observe and in his mind it was so appealing.

Surveying her from head to toe he continued this line of reasoning-their differences.

Her delicate ears, rounded and tiny, his large with pointed tips. He had to admit that his Vulcan hearing was almost matched by her aural sensitivity. His finger traveled downward and traced her right ear's configuration. There was a slight moan followed by a sigh. Perhaps she was feeling the intensity of his thoughts. He continued with his mental list…

Nyota's neck, was long and graceful, like a swan; on the other hand, his was all sinew and muscle. Gently he leaned over her prone body and his lips touched the nape of her neck. In her sleep, she whispered his name, 'Spohkh'

Those feminine hands, small, soft and delicate, the nails polished in her signature color, black. They were so efficient at her station. In contrast, his were large with long digits that none the less appeared to work effortlessly to accomplish his tasks with no waste of movement and with little effort. He then thought of how easily he held both of Nyota's in just one of his hands.

Her eyebrows, caressing the curved bone of her eye socket, while his slanted upward. Some described his as almost in a continuous look of surprise or shock. Of course, she capitalized on that difference, and on occasion even teasingly imitated his raised eyebrow.

His eyes traveled downward toward Nyota's beautiful full breasts. He would readily admit that he worshiped that part of her body. Their softness was in contrast to his chest, which was a typical male's, defined and muscular.

Then there were her rounded hips. They so enticed him. Each hip fit perfectly in his splayed hands. In that position his index fingers could explore the dimples that rode high on each cheek. When they were encased in jeans, they rhythmically rolled as she gracefully walked. At times he would purposely walk behind her to either view this wonder or prevent anyone else from viewing these contours which were another one of her treasures.

With his eyes continuing downward there were her feet, small, with each nail neatly painted, even the smallest one. Spock's feet were long and wide. One evening she stood on his feet while they danced. That put her one point seven inches higher, thus their lips were closer.

His wife's frame, delicate, petite, reaching just above his chin was so different from his tall and muscular one. Of course, that allowed him, without effort, to sweep her up and hold her close to him. While holding her he could place his face in her hair, breathe deeply and allow her scent to intoxicate him.

Another area of mental exploration was the fact that at times Nyota had a problem with messiness. It was a startling contrast to his neat, orderly arrangement of everything, mental or physical. However, to his amazement, when he first sought out her mind, he found it orderly, almost Vulcan. His wife's emotions, sometime so wild and unreasonable, and his logic at times so inflexible did balance one another. He reveled in the contrast, these differences that strayed so far away from the strict ordered life he had lived.

Nyota's expressive face, her teasing glances. His stoic, emotionless visage, which was in actuality a lie, as it led to the assumption that he was without emotions or passion. To her astonishment, when he first revealed to her the depth of his emotional devotion to her, that it had brought tears to her eyes. It became necessary for him to enfold her in his embrace and hold her until her sobs subsided. His reward to her is that she could now read his every feeling, as they were displayed in his eyes, just for her.

His bondmate's excitability, his calm, his peace, and his composure this contrasts he had learned to appreciate. For Spock took great pleasure in bringing Nyota his calm in the many ways that it was possible. Her passion would feed into him and ground him as much as his logic. For through her he could be joyful, sad,or excited-in actuality, the full scope of her emotions. These would leave him breathless although looking at his face, none would be the wiser.

Her need for sleep and his many wakeful hours spent just watching her, just as he was doing now was another contrast. He would be observing her as she breathed deeply and rhythmically, these sounds of her continued life were like a symphony to his ears.

Then there was that blinding smile she shared with most, and while an extremely intent observer might note that on extremely rare occasions his lips might turn upward ever so slightly, it was always only for his Nyota.

However, of all the differences, the one that bought him the most pleasant sensation was hearing her laughter. For with all their logic, all their accomplishments, and all their successes, Vulcans never laughed.