"Anguish!"
The trip had not been a terrible waste of time. It did give her time to sort out many different things that needed settling in her mind.
It seemed like it had just happened two breaths ago. She and Spock had been working late. He was not his normal self. That leg wound he sustained on Bentiz 12 bothered him on occasion. Perhaps this was one of the times.
She was so engrossed in her work that she did not realize that he had been standing behind her for some time. He was quiet and his breathing was deep and troubled.
"I must speak to you Nyota, on a matter of great importance. This venue is not conducive to what I must say. Perhaps you can suggest a place quiet and away from Star Fleet's influence."
His face was the same, but the tenor of his statement indicated a degree of alarm or concern.
Immediately, shutting down her work, she rose and said, "I know just the place."
They exited the lab building and observed that the campus was suffering from 'late night desolation' and proceeded to the west gate of the campus. Even though she was leading the way, Spock held the small of her back protectively as they walked to the surface transport stop. Once inside the craft she looked at Spock. He appeared drawn and the usually lively expressiveness seen in his eyes' were on the wane. Whatever was troubling him apparently was causing him to loose sleep and perhaps affected his periods of meditation.
Nyota was now worried. This was not like Spock. This was not the dynamic man she….best not go there.
They rode seven stops and then Nyota arose from her seat with Spock following her closely. As they alighted from the transport Nyota tugged on his shirt and they walked toward an all-night restaurant.
Once inside Spock led Nyota toward a secluded corner. He selected a booth. Once seated the waiter came and they both ordered water with lemon and a slice of cheese quiche.
Nyota leans forward and says with concern, "Spock, you are not well. When was the last time you have eaten?
Ever precise his reply was, "Forty-eight hours, five minutes and two seconds ago."
Nyota put her hand to her face and draws in her breath. "What is the problem Spock? Are your parents alright?"
"They have assured me that they are in the best of health," was his reply.
"The matter of concern has to do with two other persons, specifically. the two of us seated at this table," he continued.
Nyota's eye shot up to Spock's face as his gaze bored into her.
I wish to speak without interruption, I will eventually propound several question to you. Although desirable, you should not feel the need to answer me tonight, or even tomorrow, but I will need to have an answer from you eventually.
He then proceeded, "I spent the majority of my life either on Vulcun, immersed in the Vulcan way, or with my parents traveling with my father the ambassador from one embassy or planet to another. Many times, my father's trips were diplomatic, at other times they addressed trade agreement. So, I was able to observe many worlds and their people. My life on Vulcan and my travels served as a foundation for the man you see before you. Although my facade shouts one thing, at the core there is something quite different-a human heart.
The Vulcan way projects calm, serenity and control, and you are aware of the necessity for our maintenance of restraint. Spock's eyes first rested on Nyota and then he tilted his head and looked away. Nyota knew that was a indication that he was processing information.
Nyota studied his profile, his statement seemed to be tinged with embarrassment; or the closest to that for a Vulcan. Everything about him at that moment reached out to her, shouting for understanding. Her tears arose and immediately he raised his hand in a gesture indicating his need for quietude.
Facing her, he continued, "Against all Vulcan logic, and despite any remedy that mediation is suppose to provide, it is my human heart that has been affected. It is totally, completely, and entirely immersed in a deep emotional attachment to you."
Nyota gasped, "You love me?"
Spock lowered his eyes, a green tinge appearing on his ears and across his cheeks. He raised his eyes pleadingly to hers. She was smiling, her gut wrenching, room illuminating smile. She reached across the table and lightly brushed his hand. It was like an electric current that spanned the contact, it ran up her arm and images flashed into her mind. It was as if pent-up emotions exploded onto her consciousness.
"My God." she whispered as his love appeared in her mind, swirling images from the time they first met until the present.
Tears filled her eyes, she whispered, "You need not ask, your love is returned."
With her statement the mental images turned to swirls of colors indicating passion, love, loyalty, protectiveness, possession, and contentment.
Nyota did not need to ask him when this had started, she had seen it in all its progressive stages. He had been in anguish for some time. Spock turned his hand palm up with his index and middle finger toward her and nodded. She tentatively extended her finger to cover his and he nodded again, his face mirroring his wonder as he looked at her. They stayed in silent communication until light of dawn streaked across the early morning sky.
Spock's apprehension about verbalizing any questions to Nyota became pointless for it was within the confines of silence that their questions were answered.
She remembered all this at Riverside Shipyard, in Iowa as she sat on the shuttle craft strapped into her seat and she smiled her most brilliant smile and sighed.