(This was written as a one-shot and remained so for several years until with the recent Covid-19 events I decided to find solace aboard the starship Enterprise and wrote the little rather unrelated, sequel/spin-off; Sarek's Thoughts. Star Trek belongs (as always) to Gene Roddenberry and I humbly write this in admiration of the fine actors of the Original Series.)

Spock's Thoughts

With his hands clasped behind his tall, straight back and head held high in a proud, dignity of command, First Officer Spock made his way briskly through the bustling corridors of the Enterprise. His fellow shipmates who hurried by went out of their way to shoot him smiles of greeting, brief nods of respectful recognition or even the odd "good evening Mr Spock". His usually disciplined mind began to wander into contemplation of his position and the responsibilities it held to his colleagues.
His human colleagues.
They were loud, over emotional, rarely rational and almost completely void of logic. Nevertheless, he felt a certain warmth at the thought of the crew.
His shipmates.
His friends.
Friends?! That was his mother's side, breaking through the order and control of his mind with senses and desires – feelings – that were as alien to Spock as he sometimes felt he appeared to others.
The towering, pointed eared 'computer' as Doctor McCoy would call him.
Once again, Spock felt that same glow from deep within, beneath all his calculations and explanations, at the thought of that name.
And not just his name; Sulu, Mr Scott, Chekov, Uhura and the Captain.
Captain Kirk.
Jim.
Especially Jim.
He'd always been an exemplarily officer but something about that man went beyond his duty to Starfleet.
He wanted the Captain's approval, his acceptance. And since the first moment he'd met him, he'd had it. From all of them. Despite all his quirks that perplexed and, even at times, infuriated his colleagues, they had never once treated him as an outcast.
An 'alien'.
Or anything less than one of them.
They accepted him.
Maybe even liked him.
Liked? The teachings of his father's people never would have let emotional issues such as 'being liked' affect how they performed their duty. Why should it matter if he was liked?
But it did matter.
And, even to Spock, the irony was not lost that on a human star ship, light years away from his native planet and other Vulcans, Spock had found acceptance.
He'd found belonging.
He'd found a home.