From the diary of Christine Chapel

Why does one fall in love with a Vulcan?

Is it your precise way of speaking,

Or your limitless knowledge?

Is it your love for science,

Or your undying quest for expertise in all areas?

Is it your crisp, emotionless deep voice,

Or the unusual pointy ears?

Is it the safety in knowing that you can't return my feelings,

Or your quiet yet strong reassurance in a state of emergency?

When I am near you, I feel faint and my heart hammers loudly in my chest.

But you remain calm, cool and collected.

Spock

Ignoring the part of me that adores you lacerates me in a cavernous place inside,

Your beautiful blonde hair, shapely legs and long eyelashes,

Your efficient manner of working, your kind and warm demeanor,

Your pulcritndritous blue eyes, I could get lost in them for hours if I allowed myself,

And sometimes at night, I wonder what could be?

Years ago, under the infection you claimed to be in love with me,

Your announcement didn't go into a empty void,

I just buried it in a dark hole,

One that rarely sees the light,

Was it true or just a ruse of the sickness ?

During Pon Farr,

you entered my dreams,

Your face was wet,

I touched your soft skin,

To my astonishment, my heart experienced a

wound that would never heal.

Christine

Our eyes met across the cafeteria,

And you joined McCoy and I at the table,

I felt my heart skip a beat and my cheeks blush like a preteen,

But turned my face down to conceal it,

Frightened to allow my emotions show,

Your brown eyes pierced my face as I answered an inquiry from the doc,

I wondered how it would feel to run my fingers through your glossy hair,

Or touch your jaw freely with love and care,

Would you dismiss it as illogical ?

Yes, Spock, love is illogical,

But I do love you.

I found myself focusing on my food without eating, pushing it back and forth,

Allowing my day dreams to amuse me,

While you and the good doctor argued.

Spock

I went into the rec room to practice my chess,

Found you there painting alone,

Your warm greeting brought a fluttering in my heart,

We were alone, but I couldn't concentrate,

Watching you paint, I asked if I could see your work,

Your simple use of watercolor while illustrating the ocean brought a compliment to my lips,

Your face turned a pink hue and a small smile to your lips,

Fretting that I was paying too much attention to you, I sat down to play chess,

My desire to touch you, to read your mind overwhelmed me,

When I inquired if you would like to play chess,

Giddy I felt with butterflies fluttering inside,

At your jubilation of my request,

So we played,

Two games, to be exact,

I found your moves to be fascinating,

But I won both games anyway,

Our fingertips brushed each other as I demonstrated the way you could have won,

Then you clasped your hand over mine,

Rubbing the top of it ever so softly, back and forth,

Our eyes met, yours so expressive with adoration,

Oh Christine, I can't be what you want,

I can't let my feelings out,

Although I long for you,

Clearing my throat, I removed your hand from mine,

And made an excuse to my quarters,

My heart is heavy with the look of your disappointment.

Christine

As I watched you stroke the fur of a tribble,

I wondered how it felt if you were to touch my hair,

Spock, you thought you hid it well, but you were pleased with the trilling sound.

I saw the corners of your mouth turn up a bit on both sides and my heart melted.

Spock

You may think I go out of my way to avoid you, but I assure you, Christine, it is quite the opposite,

Since my health is near perfect, there is no need for me to go to sick bay, certainly not to argue with Dr. McCoy,

I think of times for me to see you, but i cant logically come up with any,

Maybe my fondness for you is illogical,

But it seems to grow.

When I see you, i try not to stare at your amazing loveliness,

I know you think I am cold, but although my blood is green,

My heart cultivates warmness for you.