The Waking Man, Chapter Fourteen
In his room at the consulate, Spock picked up his satchel and carried it to his desk. He was concerned about Admiral Chesk's most recent proposal, and he wished to review it. When he sat at his desk and opened the satchel, however, he stared at his padd for a long moment before opening the compartment at the side of the satchel and taking out the small holo-emitter that he had kept with him for so many years.
He remembered how inconvenient he had considered it when Jim, for example, took an image of his son everywhere he went, but now he did the same sort of thing himself. It was interesting how one's perspective tended to change over time. Nyota had come across this holo-emitter long ago during a visit to her parents' home, and he had placed it in his suitcase for safekeeping. He had never bothered to remove it when they returned to Vulcan, and over the years he had transferred it from suitcase to suitcase until finally it had ended up in his satchel. Now he was so accustomed to having it that he would miss it if it were gone.
He activated it and leaned back in his chair. The face that smiled at him was a very young face, but it was one that he remembered well. Nyota had been only twenty-five when she was assigned to the Enterprise, and although he was never one to be overly impressed by physical beauty, he would never forget the moment when she first materialized on the Enterprise's transporter pad. She had been with another young lieutenant, but his eyes had only been on her. He had seen something special in her even then. He never would have predicted what they would eventually become to each other, however.
He sat forward again with his elbow on the arm of the chair, and he rested his loosely curled fist against his upper lip. Nyota had been the center of his life for a very long time. Even after she died, the memory of her had been his anchor, the calm place in whatever storm was sent his way. He found now, however, that the circle around that calm center was no longer so concrete; the edges of it were becoming indistinct, as if it were growing to become something new.
"Nyota," he murmured. "I lost you when you died, and I do not wish to lose you again."
She smiled at him, unfazed.
"Do you know what is happening to me?" he asked. "Do you understand that I am being challenged to move on? My feelings for you are as strong now as they ever were, but I can no longer tolerate being alone. I have found someone who makes me feel complete again."
He fell silent, and in the silence, he remembered her generous heart. He remembered how she had always known that he would outlive her. He remembered how she had accepted that he would be given an entire other lifetime after she was gone. How he would have to endure another lifetime after she was gone. How he would be forced to live without her for the remainder of his years.
"She pleases me, Nyota. She is a good person. She is so different from you, yet there are many similarities. I find that I want to be with her my every waking moment. Is it time? Is it time that I put all that we had behind me? Or perhaps I should consider that I will merely be carrying it forward into something new."
He idly ran his finger along the side of the holo-emitter, and then he turned it off with a decisive motion and returned it to his satchel.
"Computer," he said. "List the flights from Atlanta to Terra Station One with two available adjoining seats, beginning at 1700 hours tomorrow."
He viewed the results and selected his choice. 1710 hours, tomorrow, June fifteenth. It was done.
...
"Where are you taking me, Spock?"
He looked at the woman in the seat next to him. "You will know soon enough."
She pressed her lips together in vexation, but he could tell that she was not truly displeased. "I do not understand why you are keeping our destination a secret."
"As I said, you will know soon enough."
A voice came over the speaker. "We have arrived at Terra Station. Please prepare for docking."
He felt a gentle bump when the shuttle attached itself to a port, and soon they had disembarked. He tried not to show his amusement when she stopped at the ever-changing board that displayed the incoming and outgoing flights.
"Are we going to Mars?" she asked.
"No."
"I do not think that we are going to the moon, for we could have done that directly from Atlanta."
"True."
"I have heard that the storms on Jupiter are most impressive this time of year."
"They are."
"Then we are going to Jupiter Station."
"We are not."
She gave him another mock-annoyed look. "Spock, you must tell me where we are going. You promised that we would not be staying overnight, yet I do not see any more day trips exhibited on this board."
"Come with me."
He placed his hand on her back and gently steered her away from the travel hub toward a relatively quiet corridor. He could tell by the expression on her face that she was baffled, and he was astounded that she had not yet discerned the purpose of their visit.
Finally, they came to a darkened observation lounge with ceiling-to-floor windows, through which a vast expanse of open space as well as the furthermost part of the station could be seen. It was very quiet, with only one other occupant, who was more interested in her newspadd than the view. He escorted T'Val to the window just as a large, deep-space ship detached itself from a port and floated away from the station.
He knew what would happen next, so he watched her instead of the ship.
The barest hint of rainbow-colored light illuminated her features, and she gasped. "Oh, Spock... It is just as beautiful as I always knew it would be."
He moved behind her and rested one hand on her shoulder, and pointed toward another area. "If we wait, we will see a ship come out of warp over there."
They watched expectantly until suddenly there was a flash, and a ship seemed to appear out of nowhere. An instant later, another one dropped out of warp right behind it.
She covered his hand, still on her shoulder, with her own. Neither of them spoke while they watched ship after ship vanish and appear, each displaying the distinctive light signature associated with warp travel. He had seen enough ships go into warp that he could identify the warp engine by the spectrum of radiant energy released, but he decided that he would not explain that to her now. It seemed that speaking would spoil the moment.
Finally, she turned toward him. He was still standing very close, and they were almost face to face.
"Thank you, Spock. This is one of the best gifts you could have given me."
Gazing deeply into her eyes, he said, "And thank you for giving me the ability to view this again with wonder. It is good to comprehend the beauty of something I had long taken for granted."
The ghost of a smile graced her lips, but it faded at the seriousness of his expression. "What is it, Spock? Is something wrong?"
"No. Quite the opposite. Something is actually very, very right."
She shook her head in puzzlement.
"T'Val, I am certain you recall the discussion we had about love. I said that it was good to love someone. It enriches the soul, and it leaves one with the sense that all is right with the universe. It turns out that I have fallen in love again. I did not expect that it would ever happen, but it has." He touched her gently under the chin. "I have fallen in love with you. Share the flame with me. Bond with me."
She opened her mouth and closed it, blinked twice, and said, "You wish to bond with me?"
"Yes. We have both been alone for a long time, but fate brought us together. We are well-suited to one another."
"But... your home is Vulcan, and mine is Earth."
"I am prepared to leave Vulcan. I am already away much of the time, and I could easily move my office to San Francisco. The commute from Atlanta to San Francisco is not intolerable."
"You are willing to move to Atlanta?"
"Yes, very."
"I could not ask you to leave your home, Spock. That is where you lived with Nyota."
"You do not need to ask. I volunteer freely. It is the place of many good memories, but I need more than memories now, T'Val. I need you."
She took a deep breath and pulled away from him.
"No," she said.
"Excuse me?"
"No. I will not bond with you."
Frowning, he said, "I do not understand—"
"Do you think you are so irresistible that no woman could refuse you?" Holding her arms stiffly at her sides, she curled her fingers into fists. "I will not bond with you. It is as simple as that."
He knew that his distress showed on his face as the silence stretched between them. Only moments earlier, she had been warm and affectionate. From where had this sudden hostility come? It seemed that she had gone out of her way to be hurtful with her words. Gradually, however, he realized that he should not be surprised by this abrupt change in behavior. It did not diminish his sense of loss at the sudden dashing of his aspirations, but he should have seen this coming. She had been hurt before. She clung fiercely to her independence, and she labored under the misconception that it was weak to allow someone new into her life.
Keeping his voice light, he said, "I am quite aware that there are many women who can resist me. However, I do not care about them. It is you I hoped to convince. Clearly, I will have to try harder to convince you of my appeal."
She thawed slightly, as evidenced by the subtle loosening of her fists. "Spock... Forgive me if I was harsh. I did not really mean what I said about you. You are a good man, and any number of women would consider themselves fortunate to be with you."
"You are already forgiven. As I said, however, there is only one woman about whom I care, and she evidently still finds me resistible."
"She is undeserving of your kindness."
"Ah, but she is well worth the effort."
Clasping her hands with great deliberation, she said, "I do enjoy your company, but I quite like my life as it is. It took me much too long to establish a lifestyle that suited me, and I do not intend to change my status. It would be best if we did not see one another anymore."
"That is not acceptable."
"You are looking for a mate, and I will never be your mate. It is illogical for you to continue to waste your time on me."
He raised an eyebrow, pleased that she had taken the discussion into the realm of logic. He was on much more solid footing now than if they had continued to discuss it from an emotional perspective.
"You are operating under a false assumption. I am not looking for a mate. I had no desire to bond again until I met you."
"That desire shall have to remain unfulfilled."
"For the moment, perhaps, but I am optimistic about the long term."
She shook her head. "You are very stubborn, but so am I. It is obvious that we have reached an impasse."
"I see." He clasped his hands behind his back as he pretended to consider it. "I posit that there are two ways to end this impasse. One, you agree to bond with me. Two, I withdraw my proposal. Of course, there is always the third option of no longer seeing one another, but as I said before, that is unacceptable."
"Since I will not agree to bond with you, it is apparent that you must withdraw your proposal."
"Very well. Consider it withdrawn."
Surprise flitted across her features, and he knew that he had won the advantage in their debate. The idea had been planted, and he had learned that one of the constants in life was that something unfailingly appeared more attractive when no longer available. Also, he had not pressed her to the point where she would reject him entirely. Very good. Attempting to hide his satisfaction, he looked away from T'Val only to see that the woman with the newspadd was watching them. He met her eyes, and she hastily became interested in her newspadd again.
"Come, T'Val," he said. "It is growing late, and I must take you home so I can return to San Francisco."
She eyed him warily, then led the way out of the observation lounge.
...
She had said almost nothing to him on their trip back, and as he walked her to her door, he wondered what was going to happen next. It had occurred to him earlier that he would like to stay the night with her again, but now he considered that he would be fortunate merely to receive an acknowledgment of their continued relationship. Of course, he was quite certain that it would continue, but her attitude did not bode well for the enjoyment of certain physical comforts for the remainder of the evening.
She turned to him when they reached the top of the porch steps. "Thank you for taking me to the space station, Spock."
"I was pleased to do it."
"You do know that I appreciate your companionship, do you not?"
"That was my assumption."
"I simply do not wish to change my life. Can we agree that this is an established fact and accept our times together for what they are?"
"You made your stance on the matter quite clear, T'Val, yet I am still here."
She nodded and caught just the edge of her lip between her teeth. "Then if I were to invite you in—and perhaps allow your visit to turn into an extended stay—you would not consider it also an invitation to think that I might have changed my mind, would you?"
"As I said before, my proposal is withdrawn, so it is a moot point. However, for the sake of argument, if you were to invite me in, I would consider it only an invitation to come in and nothing more."
"That is good." She turned demurely toward her door. "In that case, would you care to come in?"
"I would be most pleased to do so. Incidentally, I should inform you that I am not in a particular hurry to return to San Francisco."
"Interesting. Coincidentally, I am feeling quite rested. I am not in a particular hurry to sleep tonight."
She opened the door, and as soon as it had closed behind them he took her in his arms.
...
The next morning, McCoy ambled up T'Val's front walk with the juicer she had loaned him last week. The damn thing didn't work. She'd told him that he would be able to make juice from the apples on his tree, but in his opinion all it made was a mess. He probably hadn't used it correctly, though. If he played his cards right, maybe he could get her to come over and do it for him.
He pressed the door signal and waited. When she didn't answer right away, he pressed it again and peered through the window. He thought for sure he'd gotten here early enough that she wouldn't have left for work, but maybe not. A moment later, however, he heard footsteps approach the front door.
"Leonard," she said when she opened the door. "Greetings. I did not expect to see you this morning."
"I just wanted to return this contraption. I couldn't get it to work. I don't think I was doing it right."
She took it from him, and while she was studying it, he stepped past her into the front room. She followed, her eyes still on the juicer.
"Are these the settings you used?" she asked.
"I think so."
"I do not doubt that you had problems, then. It is still programmed for tomato juice."
"I guess that explains why I ended up with a whole mess of applesauce."
"It certainly would."
"Well, since you understand it better than I do..."
His voice trailed away when he heard the noise of a spoon clanking softly against a bowl, and no matter how smart T'Val might claim her cat was, that wasn't the sound a cat would make. Leaning back to see into the kitchen, he couldn't believe his eyes when he saw Spock sitting at the table with a bowl of fruit in front of him and a newspadd beside it.
"Spock?" he said.
Spock looked up from the newspadd. "Greetings, Doctor."
McCoy looked from Spock to T'Val, who impressively did not react at all, and back to Spock. "Well. Fancy seeing you here. Aren't you supposed to be in San Francisco?"
"It is 0400 hours in San Francisco. My presence is not required there for several hours."
"Okay. Well. Then I guess I'll see you later."
"Goodbye, Doctor."
Spock returned his attention to the newspadd as McCoy headed back toward the front door with T'Val behind him. When he was out of Spock's sight, he grabbed an elbow and pulled her close.
"T'Val, what's this?" he asked.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean," he pointed toward the kitchen, "what's this? You know. This."
She regarded him evenly. "What do you think it is?"
"Well, you little dickens." Snickering, he squeezed her arm. "I'll be damned. I'm happy for both of you."
"Before you get too excited, Leonard, you need to understand that 'this' is nothing more than what it appears to be on the surface. Do not read too much into it."
"Oh, I won't. Don't worry. But I'm still happy for you."
She opened the door. "Goodbye, Leonard."
"Bye. See you at the hospital tomorrow." He started out the door, but then remembered the juicer in her hands. Taking it from her, he said, "I'll give this another try. And I'll do my best not to drop by too early in the morning if I need more help with it. I wouldn't want to interrupt anything."
"Goodbye, Leonard."
She pushed him out the door, but not before he could waggle his eyebrows at her. When he headed down the walk toward his flitter, he couldn't help but puff out his chest a little. Damn, he was good. He'd known all along that they were just right for each other.
End chapter fourteen