Later that evening, after a quick debriefing with Captain Pike on their recent mission, and disappointingly, receiving no new information, Michael silently followed Spock through the halls and back to his quarters. Silent, because he hadn't said a word directly to her since they'd been on the Andorian ship. He didn't even acknowledge her presence as they approached the threshold to his room. For a second, she thought he might just ignore her totally, as he often did prefer silence if she didn't have a pertinent question, but Michael didn't think she could stand it if the door closed in her face while she felt like this.
Because she felt like her sanity was coming undone. No amount of distraction or activity had been able to slow the internal flow of her thoughts. After she'd managed to get away from Dr. Pollard, she'd spent the rest of the day performing her work assignments, running on the exercise deck, sparring with Ash Tyler, and even cleaning her own already immaculate quarters manually to try to clear her mind, but none of it worked. Her thoughts continually drifted to the pull she'd felt in Spock's psyche, how it had affected her so deeply, made her yearn for things she'd never even dreamed of. Spock's mind had opened her eyes to new possibilities and her innate curiosity would not let it lie, even though she was sure that is what her brother would intend.
Then, on top of the attraction she'd actually experienced this morning with Spock, her imagination had taken her a step or two further than that, playing out what might have happened, what could have happened. What could still happen, if only he'd let his guard down with her, which is why she called out to him before he could disappear behind his door, effectively locking her out of his life… again. Michael just knew if they didn't address this issue today, it would be a topic of conversation forever lost to her.
"Spock!" she said. "Wait. Please."
He did not ignore her, but turned in his doorway as she approached, his face a mask of Vulcan disinterest.
"Can we talk?" asked Michael, back straight, professional even, but her head was cocked and voice gentle.
"We can," he answered affirmatively, waiting for her to continue.
"Privately?" she huffed.
"Michael, I do not…" he began, but Michael stopped him up short, a hand raised between them.
"We need to discuss this and I'd rather not do it in the Discovery hallway, but I will if I have to."
Spock looked sideways at several cadets talking nearby, nodded, then stepped back to allow Michael to enter, the door sliding shut behind her, but he made no move to invite her further in to his bedroom.
Now that she had him face to face, she realized this might be harder than she thought. Talking to her brother about emotions, getting him to engage, well, it was like pulling teeth. He waited her out, unwilling, it seemed, to be the first one to speak. He watched her expectantly, but not without patience. Finally, Michael heaved a large sigh.
"About today…about what happened," she tried, but gave up immediately on that line of questioning for something more direct. "When you touched me and I touched you, I sensed that you…" she paused and closed her eyes, still searching for the right words. It wasn't like she was assuming how he felt about her. The feelings coming from Spock to her this morning were undeniable.
"I sensed," she began again, "that you have feelings for me." She was displeased with her inability to pinpoint exactly what needed to be said.
"That is true, Michael. I have many feelings for you. You are my sister and we have a bond deeper than I share with most people." Spock replied easily, but Michael was already shaking her head.
"No," she denied. "I mean yes, we do share a bond of family, but there was more to it than that."
"Whatever you think you felt from me today was accidental and unplanned. It is best forgotten."
He was already leaning around her to press the button to open the door, dismissing her, when she blurted out, "You wanted to kiss me." Spock dropped his hand back to his side and inadvertently flicked his eyes over her mouth. He didn't deny it. Spock wasn't a liar. "Why didn't you?"
A small, inaudible laugh huffed through his nose. "There are many good reasons to refrain from engaging in such an activity. Kissing is an illogical pastime. There is no real need for it. It is a social construct and does not aid in reproduction." He paused. "And you are my sister."
"And yet," she persisted, "you still desired to kiss me." He did not deign to answer, but she did not miss the way his eyes darted to her mouth again. She took a small step closer to him. "If your desires are within reach, Spock, then it would be illogical not to act on them."
"You would not say such things if you knew how deep desires can run. If I act on one desire that is within reach, then what is to stop me from acting on all the desires that are within my reach?" Spock questioned, his tone hardening.
"What do you mean?" asked Michael.
With a huff of frustration, Spock said, "It would not stop at a kiss, Michael. It is not as innocent as that." Michael only nodded. "There are too many things to consider."
"You think I haven't thought through every scenario?" Michael followed with a cynical laugh. "I'm a grown woman. I can deal with consequences. I can make my own choices."
"Exactly. One minute you are first officer on a Starfleet ship and the next you are in prison for mutiny," he said accusingly, and his harsh words hurt more than she could say. He instantly looked contrite. "Michael," he said, much more gently at her stunned expression. "I am sorry. I did not mean to cause you pain. I only wanted to show you how you do not always consider the collateral damage that follows your decisions, as good as your intentions are."
"I suppose…" Michael had to swallow hard, the burn of unshed tears in her throat, but raised her head in pride, "that is a fair observation. I strive to learn from my mistakes and to be a better person. Surely you have more faith in me than that?"
"I do." Spock paused, then said earnestly, "You speak of desires, as if they are so easily obtainable. I desire for you to be mine." He looked at the floor because he had admitted too much and couldn't take her scrutiny, but he had to finish, had to make her understand. "If you do not wish to be mine…permanently, then I suggest we end this conversation here and never speak of it again. You may think that you want me now, but I do not want you to change your mind somewhere in the future because you think it best for me." Michael knew he alluded to the time she ran away when they were children.
"But...permanently?" Michael asked, incredulous. Her brow furrowed in confusion. "So you won't be with anybody without it being…what? Forever?"
"There is no one else," he said quietly, still looking away from her.
"And you would have me?" she asked skeptically. "Permanently?" Since they often had as much animosity between them as understanding, Michael just couldn't fathom how he could come to such a conclusion about something she'd never even considered before today, especially after questioning her past choices.
Spock lifted his chin at this and looked into her face. Honesty required courage. "I would."
"How do you know for sure? All we've ever been to each other is brother and sister. How do you know we would be compatible without trying it first?" Michael asked reasonably.
"I know you, Michael Burnham. I know your mind. You are good and kind, selfless to the point of your own destruction. You are intelligent and logical, while remaining passionate. Love is the motivating factor in everything you do. You possess all of the best human qualities I have ever encountered." Spock said all of this simply, finally indulging her with some of the tenderness he had bestowed on her earlier that day as they hid from the Andorians. She felt touched and absolutely known by this man that stood in front of her. Even so, she was torn. There was no way to commit herself totally to him without a trial, without courtship. It was not her way and she found she couldn't quite wrap her mind around the idea.
With tears in her eyes, she sought to try and change his mind. "Can't we just try? Take a chance?"
"I do not make choices based on chance. Do you doubt that I have not calculated every possible conclusion of a relationship between us and how our choice would affect every one around us, our colleagues, our careers, our friends, and our parents? It would cause ongoing prejudice and scorn. It would cause chaos in our personal lives and confusion in our professional." She could only look at him helplessly. He was right. She had not thought it all the way through. There hadn't been enough time. Choosing Spock would be difficult, yet she still felt irreparably drawn to him. He continued, gracing her with a rare, sweet smile she hadn't seen since they were children. "Even so, you would be worth all of it, Michael."
She didn't want to hurt him in the future, but how was she to know what the future would hold? Was it better to hurt him a little bit now, or to hurt him a lot later? Michael took a step back. He nodded his head in understanding. A few of the tears that been threatening to fall finally spilled over onto her cheeks as she watched that small happiness drain from his face. She needed to leave, wanted to go back to her quarters to cry in disappointment over this thing she should never have even known about. Would she go back to ignorant bliss if she had the choice? She wasn't so sure.
Michael held her fingers out to him in the Vulcan Ta'al, remembering how he had taught her when she first joined his household after her parent's death. It had evolved into their own special greeting between them, much to their father's chagrin, to touch hands. "Peace and long life," she said gently to Spock, her voice even, though her heart beat an unsteady rhythm.
Spock, too, held up his hand in the greeting, spreading his fingers out, his fingertips to her fingertips, his palm to hers. "Live long and prosper."
As soon as his hand was against hers, she felt all of his carefully hidden emotion rush over her and what he was feeling was beautiful and lovely and poignant, and it was all directed at her. Fighting for control over her own emotions under this onslaught was difficult, but she rallied and sent out her own love through their connection, her own desires, her willingness to try, willing him to try.
His hand moved in hers, twisting from the Vulcan salute to intertwine their fingers together. Tugging Michael close, he said hoarsely and with accusation, "You move so easily past my defenses. You are my weakness." Then his lips descended on hers.
The kiss was probing and hopeful. His lips were soft as they covered hers, his tongue warm as she darted hers out to taste him. Through their connection, she could feel his small disappointment in himself at caving so quickly to her will, but elation also, in knowing, finally, her mouth, which had long been his curiosity. His gentle hand cupped her cheek, slipping to the back of her neck as his kiss became hungry. Again, Michael had the vague sense that he had not been touched in a very long time and this saddened her. Though he still had one of her hands in his, she wrapped an arm around his waist and spread her fingers wide over his lower back, so that he could feel as much of her as possible, holding him close.
Spock pressed her hand into his bearded cheek, and she scratched her fingers through it as she had earlier that day, causing him to sigh in contentment. She drew her palm down, over the side of his neck and across his shoulder, letting it fall onto his chest. It was impossible not to compare Spock's lean, muscled arms and the flat plains of his torso to the bulk of Ash Tyler's, whom she had sparred with earlier on the holodeck. Her brother was reading her too closely again, for at the thought of the Section 31 officer that would be his rival, Spock let out a low growl that reverberated through his chest. His possessiveness was a visceral thing that produced a deep need in Michael, an urgency she hadn't felt a moment ago, which only caused him to growl again.
Not realizing Spock had been walking her backwards, she was surprised when her back hit the entrance door of his quarters, causing her to break the kiss for a moment. He pressed against her, leaning his forehead to hers, his soft breaths fanning over her face as his chest rose and fell from the exertion of holding back. Because, while all of this was new to him, he was indeed fighting to hold back. He hadn't been exaggerating when he had warned her about his desires. They ran deep and it cost him great effort to slow things down now with Michael instead of keeping her pressed up against this wall until he had his fill of her, until she admitted that she would be his.
She stood on tip toes to kiss across his cheekbone, and for a second, sucked his earlobe into her mouth, which he liked a lot, if the small gasp that issued from him had anything to say about it. She dragged her lips down the side of his neck, placing a trail of warm, open-mouthed kisses all the way to the small dip in his neck between his collar bones. Unfortunately, his uniform stopped her from going any further, but when she lifted trembling fingers to the zipper, he placed his hands over hers to stop her.
Taking one of her hands in each of his, he lowered them to their sides. "This is what I spoke of. One desire leads to the next. Where will we stop, Michael? When you break my heart?" She would have stepped away at these words had there been anywhere to go, but she remained wedged between the door and his body.
She searched his eyes, but again, he did not mean for his words to hurt her. "Why must it end in heartbreak?" she asked.
"Because, you will never belong to anyone but yourself," he answered simply.