Disclaimer: I own nothing.
A/N: I am in the process of thoroughly revising this story and have not yet uploaded the revised chapter, so it still seems a bit choppy at the beginning. Feel free to leave me any suggestions.
It is not often that a story is started with the end; it's a contradiction of sorts. But life is full of contradictions and confusion mingled with controversy and uncertainty. We all of us try at every second of our lives to live with a semblance of balance between rationality and desire of love, but occasionally that rational is splintered and nothing makes sense anymore.
And so we will begin and end this story with the uncertain balance of logic and passion.
Spock stood in the main shuttle hangar at the academy in San Francisco waiting for Felicity. He had much to discuss with her, topics that would change their future together.
She was on his mind, constantly. This was more of a normal occurrence, for she lingered ever present even if not in the forefront of his thoughts, but she was connected to him, and he to her, and that was exactly what he wanted...needed to discuss; them.
While he was waiting, impatience began to diffuse throughout his body, and he had little ability to suppress the lingering emotion. A cadet and walked toward Spock. The young man was dressed in the typical Starfleet red uniform and far too merry. He began asking the Vulcan about the Xenolinguistics courses and who would be teaching them. Due to his irritation at this blissfully unaware cadet who had no real experience in the trauma and devastation life could cause, along with his impatience to speak with Felicity, Spock snapped at the young man, telling him to trying and gain information through real work and research efforts rather than imposing on his time. As the young man hastened away, a glimmer of amusement was alight on the Vulcan's face. For the first time in a long time.
If Felicity had been near him during the incident, she most likely would have reverted to her informative form of operating by reminded him about the fundamental attribution error, a significant aspect of social psychology in which the cadet he scared off would have attributed Spock's foul mood to dispositional factors rather than mitigating circumstances. At times, Felicity could be so well informed and logical about her life, but her humanity greatly flawed her judgment quite often.
He saw her walking towards him in the hangar and anxiety traveled to his central nervous system. Her solemn mood could be felt too, through their emotional link she had inadvertently created so many years ago, when their courtship was still fresh and without much complication. He remembered how fiercely she had clung to him for that first kiss; a moment of time lost in perfection.
The verdict was still uncertain. Spock was not at all sure he would be able to follow through with either of his two choices. But choices had to be made, and Spock was not one for shirking his duties, either to his work or his planet...his planet, which no longer existed. So many decisions required his attention, but as usual, she filled his thoughts. How could she not? His world had orbited around her for so long.
She was getting closer by the second.
The choices he made would greatly effect not only his life, but the life of the woman he loved; the woman he loved, and spent so much time observing and understanding. Without her his life would have little continuity...at least until...well, he would consider that at a later time. Why was it that love and logic conflicted more than anything in the universe?
To him, Felicity was weak, weaker than she would admit to herself or anyone else. Felicity was stubborn and would not yield to any decision he made without her approval beforehand. Felicity was gifted with such a deep desire to learn and was constantly enlightening him. But most of all, Felicity was not logical, at least not to the extent he needed her to be.
He loved her. He couldn't stop the silly mantra running through his thoughts. He loved her. Reaching a verdict in his overactive mind, he clasped his hands behind his back and walked to meet her.
Felicity was reviewing every detail of her and Spock's relationship. An almost five year relationship with only a few hiccups in between could possibly have been in vain. Fives years have the potential to be wasted because of a few incidents that went horribly wrong. She wished for someone that she could turn to and ask for guidance about what to do.
She was an investigator, part of the security team, a red shirt, not a lawyer. Trying to argue both sides of the argument, the one to either stay with Spock or leave due to their many complications was difficult, because neither side of the argument was logical. It was drenched with emotion.
She stayed up late, night after night without any hope of coming to a conclusion. She could argue reasons for both sides, and she did.
To satisfy her obsessive compulsive needs, Felicity had to properly categorize her issues with Spock by tables and indentations. Unfortunately there was no PADD close, and all she had was a napkin from her lunch earlier. She began listing and wrote a word incorrectly, so she had to flip the napkin over and start again on the other side.
Spotting him standing exactly where he had said she would be able to find him, he looked pensive, staring at the floor. He was handsome, at every second, any time she watched him, and even now after everything they had been through, her heart pounded harder against her chest, and a strange lustful love settled around her. Imagining their many sexual encounters ignited a fire between her thighs that was quickly extinguished when the memory of their last encounter surfaced.
He had been the only one she trusted for so long. What would happen if she lost that; lost him? Would it almost be better for her? Would her life had meaning? Who would she turn to in times of trouble? She had to talk to him about their relationship. Everything they worked so hard to build with each other was quickly crumbling around them in only days.
His eyes. They were watching her, holding her captive, and her heart pounded when he began walking toward her as well. Though the longer list of negatives would deduce the more logical choice, she was not bound by logic alone. Love was enough for her, even if it ended up killing her. She made up her mind and stopped only a couple feet away from him.
Neither spoke for a long time, both taking the time to search the other for any signs of decision. After a silence longer than eternity, Spock was the first to speak.
"I've been waiting for you." He stopped, hesitating, with his hands balling into fists behind his back. She could feel his anxiety through their connection. Finally he looked at her resolutely and asked, "What is it you wish to do with your life, Felicity?"
But this scene in and of itself is an attribution error. In this moment of turmoil for them both, it is easy to misinterpret the emotionally-based logic they present, already predisposing you to an opinion of them. It is common knowledge to preferably have all the evidence of a situation before making judgment. For this, it is necessary to start from the beginning, the very beginning, before they ever met to understand what brought them so closely together and currently has the potential to tear them apart.
This is the end of the beginning.