Yeah…Yeah…Yeah…I know I said I was going underground but I got inspired during last night's re-watch. I even opted out of a new episode of 'V' to watch my beloved Star Trek. Truth, trying to finish this by the end of the week and then I'll get back to 'Run', Joanna's story. There is a surprise coming up in another week or so and it will have something for everyone. There are really some gifted writers on this site, who live to make their readers happy. So stay tuned…

Chapter 25 – Unavoidable Circumstances

Spock disentangled his limbs from Nyota's. He eased from the bed, pausing to watch her adjust to the lack of his presence. Her hair fanned out across the pillow, as she slept on her back, one arm supporting her neck, while the other grasped the covers where his body once lay. Her eyelashes were fluttering in the midst of her dreams and she was mumbling softly. One name had lingered on Nyota's lips throughout the night and caused Spock to wake in anger. Leo, she was mumbling Leo, constantly. He closed his eyes, attempting to block out the memory of the night at Pike's. The goodbyes, whiskey laced laughter, and stolen glances between his Nyota and Leo.

They were friends. That's what she had said when he gave her a frustrated look over the counter one morning as flipped through the paper. A sharp pain spiked in his chest. The same one he felt when he saw them a few days ago in the library on campus engaged in a serious discussion that ended with his Nyota taking Leo into her arms; holding a soft hand against his cheek after their embrace, a gesture that was once only reserved for him.

"He misses his daughter."

There was always a logical explanation. Sighing he wandered towards the living room.

Spock glanced at the clock it was only two thirty in the morning. Too early to go to the gym or begin preparation for the day. Nyota was in the full swing of her senior year with only a few months left until graduation, while he worked for his father and debated on continuing his educational career beyond a graduate level.

Spock folded his long limbs into a meditative pose and drifted into a relaxing trance. It had been months since he felt the need to return to old ways, he was troubled, unsettled, bothered, or all of the above. Life with Nyota had been serene. They were content. The epitome of the perfect couple, dinner together each night, coffee at the local café in the morning before he headed to work and she arrived at campus for her first class, and the fire had returned to their physical relationship. She was no longer, rationing moments of intimacy. She was even more aggressive in bed. He took a few breaths to calm the rising nature that threatened to wake her from her sleep and remind her again and again until the sunlight broke through the windows that she was his no matter what name she continued to call in slumber.

Again, Spock continued taking deep breaths; clearing his mind. Then he heard it. Nyota's tears, glancing at the clock again, it was now three thirty. Right on schedule, since their move into their new home, the same occurrence happened each time she dreamed. Soft moans followed by her friend's name; then came the thrashing, crying, and Spock's name. His hands automatically balled into fists; his knuckles whitening from the pressure. Spock had become the monster in his love's dreams. In the morning Nyota would wake, curl against his chest, and push those images out of her mind with attempted seduction.

Finally Nero's words from so long ago rang true, "Break her." Spock had broken Nyota and there was no way he could repair the damage he had caused. He understood Pike's warning, Sulu's evil glances, and Kirk's off the wall advice. Nyota would never completely trust their bond again; she would always wait for disenchantment around the next corner. Her eyes would not hold the easy and unwavering esteem they once had as he stood in front of the class filling in for Nero during one of his inopportune breaks.

That wave of emotion that filled her and flooded from every pore of her body when she professed her love from him would not be present between them again. He could not stand to see her looking at him the way his mother viewed his father now. One part love, add a scoop of disgust, and finish it off with an ounce bitterness. Nyota would not be that woman.

The pain in Spock's chest grew. His breathing became labored and for the first time in years, real, genuine, tears poured from his eyes. He bit back the sobs, pressing his fist against his lips; struggling to wipe away the traces of moisture.

"No." He nearly shouted battling internally. How do you give up the only place where you feel happiness? In the same thought he had to question why did he ever taint it? This was Spock's doing. He had it all and now he would have to let her go.

Spock returned to bed. Carefully easing under the covers and wrapping his body around Nyota's. He wiped the drops of moisture from her cheeks. Kissing each one lightly before whispering, "You will always have my heart." Maybe she understood the words deep in sleep, because her grip tightened around him as she buried her face in his neck.

In the wee hours of the morning, Spock came to terms with fate, destiny, and the consequences of actions. The same speech he had once delivered to the woman in his arms replayed in his head. Why should he be any different?

Spock was feigning sleep when Nyota awoke to sneak to the bathroom to brush her teeth before kissing him good morning. He pretended to fight her efforts to wake him, even as her soft lips trailed kisses along his neck. She slid her hands under his t-shirt, circling her fingertips along the well defined lines of the chest she now was kissing. Her laugh at the peak now evident in his boxers irritated him.

Spock grabbed Nyota's hands with one of his own, while the free hand tilted her head towards his eyes, "I need to remember that no matter what happens, I have and will always love you."

She responded not with words but with a kiss, that felt almost like the first time he tasted her lips during a stolen moment in a stairwell at the university. That morning when they made love, it was just that, love, not a quickie, or even fucking.

It was goodbye.