Disclaimer: I own nothing but my fangirlish imaginings

You have dreamed of this forever, it seems.

Forever and no time at all.

The lines of his face, the tilt of his jaw just this side of regal, the pointed tips of his ears, compelling in a visceral way.

His strong, graceful hands cupping yours; stroking his fingers over the backs, lacing your fingers together (making out the Vulcan way, hotter than you could have imagined, feeling the pulsebuzzthrum of everything he is beneath)

T'hy'la, he breathes into the (minimal) space between you.

You breathe in his exhalation (friendbrotherlover)

He is everything; the minute double-helixes of his genetics a miracle made flesh, the entire universe in its swirling glory shifting beneath his skin.

Your mind opens to him under careful fingers, and now comes the deep, spreading before him like an ocean parting, and he slides into your depths, Davy Jones come for his locker.

You give him all that and more (takeittakeittakeit, all that I am, I am yours)

Space, time and distance are not laws that can touch you here.

(Nothing, nothing is ever stronger than this, than us) and down the line the echoes of his affirmation reply.

Nothing has changed, really, in day to day operations. You are both the textbook example of constant professionalism. (Probably him more so than you, owing to his Vulcan temperament)

You share quarters at night; that is all.

And if Ensign Chekov smiles at you a little more, (and you totally see that subtle hand on Lieutenant Sulu's knee beneath the table) and Mr. Scott seems a little more amused whenever you stand next to him, and Doctor McCoy's grumblings have become marginally more good-natured towards your First Officer, and Uhura (Nyota) feels the need to smile smugly at you both (like she knew all along,) then it stands to reason that (you are not nearly as discrete as you thought) nothing even has to.

You have this now, and it is (familybelongingacceptancelove) exactly what you needed.

(You will change the world; sculpt the face of the universe like clay. It could not be any other way but this, forever onward into uncharted territory)

These are the things that are important:

Your people settling on new Vulcan (first infant born on-colony 17.8 days ago)

Your comrades and crew (family)

The Enterprise (home)

Jim (all that you are is him is you is youandhimforever)

Even unto death (and beyond, into the unknown dark, and while you will outlive him you will indeed someday follow, off the mortal coil into the beyond and to his side once more, starbright and unending and never ever broken)

This is the lest leg of your journey, the last long stretch of space before your five year mission ends, before you return to Earth for new assignments. (These should be your last moments together as a crew, but a wholly illogical part of you does not believe that this is true)

From your seat on the bridge you can see you future mapped before you, spinning into eternity and unconquerable, these people surrounding you, Jim by your side and galaxies of trials and challenges and discoveries awaiting you.

(you have never been so sure of anything as this, of destiny moving people in circles through time and across realities, of these things that are meant to be and will never change)

(There are countless infinities laid out for your choosing, and one by one you will have them all.)

(His joy will carry you through)

This is the end. Thanks to everyone who joined me on this journey.