Life Is Not Always Easy

Chapter 45 : Confirmation

July, 2268

The crew was all back on board, and things were settling back down to normal. But the small group of people who had been aboard during the horribly-gone-wrong test of the M5 were definitely not normal yet. Not even Spock.

The ship's counselor held several group sessions, trying to get them to talk it out. It did help some of them. But not Spock.

McCoy and Kirk hosted a couple of drink-and-grouse sessions, which seemed to ease the both of them, as well as a couple of the others. But not Spock.

He sat cross-legged on the floor of the observation deck, staring out at the stars going by. Nyota finally found him there, and settled down beside him. "Is it better yet?"

"Somewhat. The peacefulness here helps."

She looked at him, trying to decide what he needed. "Do you want me to go and leave you here to meditate?"

"No, I believe I have meditated sufficiently." He said no more.

"Do you just want to sit here for a while longer then?"

"I do not think so."

She began to feel the slightest bit frustrated. "What do you want then, Spock?"

He canted his head in her direction. His eyes focused on her. "Breath. Life. Joy. Heat. Distraction. Surprise."

She inhaled sharply. "You need to feel that you are different from the machines. Not a computer, not programmed to act in a certain way."

He sighed. She understood. "Yes."

She rose and reached down, tugging on his arm, pulling him to his feet. "Come." She led him to her quarters, seating him on the edge of her bed, and then she came to stand between his knees, resting her hands on his shoulders. She leaned forward and nuzzled his face and neck, breathing on his skin. And then she began to kiss, to nibble, to lick, to nip, until his breath hitched and his arms pulled her close.

She whispered against his skin as she continued to tantalize him. "You are mine, Spock, not a machine, not unfeeling. My lover, my soulmate, my own Spock." And he growled into her hair, his arousal building, while her hands were busy, stripping off his clothes, her clothes. And then she was in his lap, skin touching, burning, heat building, flames growing. He sank into her wetness, groaning at her as she moved against him, and he cupped her buttocks and thrust hard against her, making her cry out and clench against him. He shook with the feelings she had generated, shuddered with the ecstasy that was building. And let the joy flood through him as they shared life between them.

When they lay twined together on the bed much later, her head pillowed on his shoulder, she asked him again. "What do you need Spock?"

"Only you, Nyota. Only you."

It was enough. It was all that was necessary. It was life.