Title: Losing Control
Author: T'Yel
Series: TOS
Codes: S/OC
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek, and I don't profit from it.
Synopsis: Spock lost his control just once for a short moment after his aborted kon-ut-kalifee. But five years later this loss of control comes back to haunt and taunt him, turning his plans for his life upside down, and finally granting him new insights into his dual nature.
2267 - Vulcan
The library smelled of old books and ancient parchment roles. It was late and the nightly coldness common for deserts – regardless where they were found in the universe – started creeping into the old building. Only two visitors were left, working quietly at the same wooden table. The man, presumably a Vulcan scholar, was wearing long sweeping robes. The woman - of terran descend - sat curled up on her chair, her hair carelessly knotted and tied with a single clasp. Fate had placed them at the same table.
The woman shivered slightly. Absentmindedly she picked up a broad scarf, sitting next to her on the table, and draped it around her shoulders. The Vulcan scholar looked up, prompted by the noise of the fabrics rustling. Their eyes met for the fracture of a second, before she looked down again, fastening the scarf.
Silence settled again. Her pen scraped over paper, taking down notes. The page he turned crackled silently. The light entering through the window slowly turned from an almost nothingness to a deep red, intermingling with the warm yellow light of the old library lamps, creating a soft and warm atmosphere, contrasting the chill of the night air.
A ray of red light caught on an old book cover and painted a reflection on the dark wood of the table. The scrapping of her pen stopped as her gaze shifted to the light pattern on the table. The hint of a smile touched her lips, tracing the shapes and lines on the polished wood. The scholars' eyes followed her gaze for a moment and then turned to her face. Her skin was almost white, unusual for a human living on Vulcan. Her eyes were of a dark green color and her dark brown hair set of her pale skin.
She felt his eyes resting on her. Suddenly self-conscious her breathing stopped for a second, before she too lifted her eyes looking at him. His face betrayed no emotion, but his eyes all of a sudden seemed to become bottomless pits, drawing her in.
Motion seemed to cease. Her lips parted slightly. Time stopped. He had the feeling of drowning in her gaze. Remotely he remembered he was not supposed to acknowledge these feelings, but the thought never took hold in his consciousness.
She had the feeling of sleepwalking, when she got up from her chair. He also got up, followed her down the long table. She felt dizzy. Still the table was separating them. And then there where only two paces of empty air left between them.
She was small. She did not even reach up to his shoulder. When he stepped closer, her skin sizzled, sensing his body heat. Carefully he touched her cheek with the back of his hand. Then their hands touched. The air went heavy. She did not move, when he plucked out the clamp in her hair, letting it fall down her back.
She would never have believed it possible, that she would make passionately love to a Vulcan scholar, whom she had never met before, with whom she had not talked a single word. He would never have believed he would ever let go of all his education and control, and succumb to passion with a total stranger.
On the next morning, alone, both were not sure, if they remembered a dream, or if it really had happened. She couldn't remember his face; he only remembered her long, soft hair. But both remembered the soft touch of each others hands on their skin. And none had heard the others voice or knew the others name.