"So, we were never..?"

He shook his head, the dim light throwing shadows across his aged skin, and in his eyes Nyota saw emotion, emotion that had faded and flared over time, emotion that she'd never seen before, and she looked to her hands for a distraction.

"Things were different; people were different," he murmured in that gravelly tone of his, that worn echo in his voice, and she gazed back up at him, smirking.

"So you didn't even have a crush on her?" He put a wrinkled hand to his ear, as if to scratch at it, but instead let the pad of his finger brush over the pointed tip absently, and she noticed the corners of his mouth turn up. This Spock was different, foreign in a way she'd never known, human in a way she'd never witnessed.

"No." She worried the button on her shirt and blinked at him, dark eyes shining with curiosity.

"I can't imagine it, never being with Spock. The prospect is too awful to even think about," she reflected reservedly, and he watched the flicker of her eyes as she tried to avoid his gaze, remembering too late that humans normally disliked close inspection. She ran a hand through her hair, which flowed in thick, dark rivers down her back, and sighed heavily, even shakily.

"She must have been so lonely without her soul mate," Nyota whispered, and Spock looked to her hands, smooth skin pulled taut over the knuckles, just as Uhura's were so many years ago, slender fingers masters at sending his heart racing. He blinked away the memory and looked to her, falling into the familiar stoic expression so common to the people of Vulcan, and it seemed that she recognized the reason behind it, smirking abruptly, like some fire had been lit within her eyes.

"I know you, no matter what lifetime you're in," she started playfully, "and I know that you don't just shut down like that for nothing." He leaned against the table top they were sitting at, shrugging.

"But I do not know you." She frowned, a serious glint in her eyes, and took his hand.

"But you used to know me, in a different time. You honestly never felt anything for her?" He swallowed, shaking his head sadly.

"Whatever affections I held for her are meaningless now; the Lieutenant died decades ago."

Brow furrowed, she looked at where her hand rested on top of his, wondering if she ever touched him like this in that other life, wondering and wishing that she knew. She looked up, and the answer was clear in his eyes, written brightly across his stare.

No.

She felt an overwhelming sense of pity for him, but a small part of her could relate. How long had she admired Spock, while he'd remained oblivious? How long had such attraction burned between them, sitting untouched and electric within their gazes? How many times had she wished for something seemingly impossible, seemingly illogical?

She smiled, then, and stood, leaning over the table to plant a soft kiss to his cheek, noticing the way he tensed with surprise. She pulled away and met his wide, mesmerized gaze, smiling tenderly down at him, the tips of his pointed ears that peeked through his grey hair starting to turn the slightest shade of green.

"I'm sure she always wanted to do that. Fear can override bravery even in the most courageous of people."

Sending him one last lingering smile, she turned and walked out of sight, unaware of his eyes trailing her, his pulse and the rush of blood going rapid in his ears, the shine of tears giving his eyes a glossy and far-away look, as if he was trapped in a memory from years past.

Based off a prompt given by Isolde.

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