Prologue

It had been many years since Spock had set foot upon Earth's surface.

As he walked across the grass of the Starfleet Academy grounds the Federation Ambassador blinked up towards the single sun that orbited high above the planet, inwardly regretting the decision he had made to stay away for so long. Earth had always been a pleasure for him to visit, being as half of his culture originated from it and the mere simplicity of its atmosphere made any creature of any race feel both welcome and at ease. The longer he basked in the warmth and sweet smell of this particularly pleasant summer's day, the more tragic it weighed in upon him that he had decided to stay away. Though, it really hadn't been his decision…

Young, unfamiliar faces moved past Spock in crowds as he went, very determined to arrive on-time to his meeting. He caught himself expecting to see old friends jogging by or old teachers roaming about from building to building – but, of course, most of those faces were either deceased or far too old to be caught on the Starfleet Academy ground anymore. The half-Vulcan felt rather out-of-place, shuffling through the 20-something's and their busy minds.

Though his exterior did not yet show it, his soul felt very old.

So many trek's throughout the galaxy, so many planets, so many adventures – the half-Vulcan's belt of experience was plastered with almost seventy years of space travel. And here he was, retired from Starfleet and now serving the Federation, forced to spend a month on Earth so that he could sort out a few Klingon issues that simply could not be handled from space, or any other planet. The details were hush-hush at this point but he was confident that the matter of his desired arrival would be explained momentarily.

As he approached the long pebble stairway that lead into the building where his meeting was set to take place, Spock stopped momentarily and stared up at the glistening tall glass windows. It had been so many years since he had laid eyes on this particular building – and there were so many memories stored away inside of it. It was inside of this building that he had first met James Kirk. It was inside of this building that James Kirk had been promoted to Captain of the USS Enterprise. It was inside of this building that Spock's entire life had been changed, and where the course for many years of adventure had begun.

The past 10 years, however, lacked an important spark of life that would never be reignited for the rest of his existence - a spark of life that, ironically, also began within this building.

Squaring his shoulders, Spock dug down deep within himself and withdrew the strength to trudge up the stairway, keeping his eyes fixed on the door at the top. When the stairs were over with and he had reached the very top, the half-Vulcan reached a placid-skinned hand forward and extended his fingers towards the handle, relieved that he had made it this far.

"Ambassador Spock?" A foreign yet oddly familiar voice called from behind him.

Spock turned, dropping his hand, and glanced over his shoulder, expectant to see another Ambassador or Federation member. What his gaze actually fell upon both startled and left him with room for gaping disbelief.

A woman stood before him with shoulder-length dirty-blonde hair, her complexion golden, her skin perfectly sun-kissed, her eyebrows full and bushy, and her eyes the color of a bright, crystal blue. For a moment Spock's heart stopped.

Fate had a truly cruel way of reminding his human feelings of how drastically broken they were.

"Of course it's you. I'd recognize you anywhere." The woman continued, looking extremely pleased and relieved that she was speaking to him. As if triggered by the confused and slightly horrified look in Spock's speechless face she urgently went on in explanation. "Someone told me that you were coming to Earth. I know you probably don't know who I am – "

"Winona Kirk." Words finally found their way through as Spock stared down in awe at James Kirk's adult daughter, named appropriately after his mother. "Your resemblance to your father is remarkable."

Winona tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and smiled weakly at him, dropping her gaze to the pebbled ground. She clearly had things that she wanted to say but words were failing her the same way that they had momentarily failed Spock. The silence, however, was welcomed – for it gave the half-Vulcan enough time to lasso his unexpected spring of emotions and tether them back to the ground.

"He died when I was 16." She finally said with a shift of her weight from one foot to the other, bringing her blue eyes back up to his dark, deep gaze. Her face, so similar to her father's, twisted into a look of desperation. "I have so many questions I want to ask you."

He had suspected that much. There was no doubt in Spock's mind that Winona knew perfectly well who he was and how close he and her father had been – well, at least to the point of public knowledge. But he couldn't talk to her. He couldn't even look at her without being flooded with emotions both good and bad, and the mere thought of reliving memories of his deceased, beloved Captain seemed as alluring as reliving memories of his deceased mother; emotion-filled and horrible.

"I regret to inform you that it was your father's request that you not know me." He began slowly, tugging at the bottom of his shirt to re-align the material along his shoulders. "You should respect that."

"No – see that's where you're wrong!" Winona said quickly, reaching into the giant bag at her waist and withdrawing a small recording device. "He left me this."

Spock looked down at the device within her hands in silence. He knew what it was; he had seen it a hundred times over. It had belonged to Captain Kirk, a device he had acquired when joining Starfleet. Spock knew that Kirk had used the device for personal use, logging his personal thoughts and experiences. It had never once occurred to the half-Vulcan that the device still existed, let alone that Kirk would leave it to his daughter.

"I've gone through the entire thing." Winona said with a shrug, shoving the device towards Spock and smiling. "I think you should have it."

Spock quirked his eyebrow skyward and bowed his head respectfully forward. "Your father departed with the expectation that you would obtain this. It is not appropriate that I take possession of it."

"It's all about you." The young woman urged, wiggling the device around before Spock and physically suggesting him to take it. "Look – take it and go through it."

Spock narrowed his eyes in consideration; it was beginning to grow extremely difficult to fight the urge of taking it from her offering hand. He wanted to listen to it, to take it into a dark, separate place and hear the voice of his old friend, to know Kirk's deepest secrets…

"Please." Winona begged.

Taking a step backward, Spock shook his head slowly back and forth. It would be both an invasion of privacy and a lack of respect if he took it. "I apologize. I cannot."

In that moment the fragile device slipped from Winona's hand, plummeting towards the ground. Spock reacted quickly, gasping slightly at her clumsiness, and fell forward onto one knee so that he could snatch the recorder inches above the ground. As he straightened himself, brushing his knee free from filth, he looked up to find Winona back-peddling quickly away from him. All of Spock's frustration melted away at the sight and realization of it all.

She was just like her father. Defiant, hard-headed, sneaky…

And irritatingly charming.

"Next Wednesday I will meet you for lunch – and then you can give it back to me. Or keep it. But please meet me next Wednesday." Winona called from the bottom of the stairway, smiling wide. "I really have to know you, Ambassador."

Author's Note: This will be the shortest chapter; the rest will (mostly) be full of flashbacks of Kirk and Spock. At this point I don't have a solid rating, for I'm unsure of where I want to take this story as far as 'sexual situations' are concerned.