Susan was up on top of the red sand dune again, still twirling like a piece of cloth caught in a breeze.

I called to her, and she came skipping down, spraying the sand about her like water.

I caught her in my arms, and we fell backwards into the sand. It felt like a warm cloud, so unlike the harsh realities of Vulcan.

Once again I could see all her deepest thoughts, spilled out in the most sincere display of trust. I flipped through them like one would do to an antique book. I glimpsed her childhood memories, her fears, her plans, flashes of pictures she intended to draw and places she hoped to see. I loved seeing them. I wanted to be connected to them forever.

I woke up with a start.

Something was lying next to me, up against my back.

I sat up, quickly.

Susan had been asleep next to me, back to back like bookends.

Her eyes fluttered open.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Spock. Did I wake you?"

My mind was still fuzzy from sleep.

"What are you doing here?"

She propped herself up on her elbows.

"I couldn't sleep. I wanted to come over and talk to you, but you looked so sweet lying there I just couldn't wake you. I guess I must've dozed off."

I laid back down, turning to face her.

Her strangeness at times astounded me. She trully was an alien.

"I'm sorry. I just....wanted to be with you." she muttered. "It's not logical."

Our eyes met and once again I felt as if I was tumbling through space.

"I don't think you have ever worried about being logical." I stated, lifting my blanket over her.

She smirked and put her head back onto the pillow.

I rested my head back down as well.

She shifted closer to me, and moved her head so her forehead was leaning softly against mine.

"I love you, Mr. Spock." she whispered.

For a moment, my heart stopped beating, of that I am utterly sure. It is not logical, but it is true.

I wanted to say it back. I wanted to say it over and over until the words were stuck in her head for days, but I couldn't. It was as if every Vulcan discipline that had hindered me for my entire life were pressing down on my tongue.

I touched my fingers to the side of her head.

The words I could not say flooded into her mind as clearly as if I had whispered them into her ear.

I love you.

Something glittering rolled softly down Susan's cheek.

"Your face is wet. This reaction is illogical."

She took my face in both her hands and pressed her lips to mine.

"I have never worried about being logical."

Something got pushed to the back of my mind in that moment. It was quite a big thing to push, and it was the philosophy that had held my life together until that very moment:

Logic.

Suddenly it didn't matter who was human, what love was, who saw what. I loved her, she loved me, and here she was. Suddenly inches away wasn't nearly close enough. I wanted, I felt. My arms scooped themselves around her waist, marvelling at how wonderful it felt for them to not be empty at my sides. My nose fell into her golden hair, and the smell was something so good and right, it was a miracle I had gone so many years without ever smelling it. I felt her hands pushed up against my chest, and though my heart wasn't located there, it was as if she held it in her hands, feeling the love in it surge with every beat. Her leg snaked in between my knees, and the way it clicked into place was so perfect and precise it was like the answer to an equation. I felt as if no other human, vulcan, or intelegent being could fit me the way Susan was. She was made for me, and I was molded for her.

my hands were trembling with this raw, new emotion. I pulled my head away, and gently tilted her her chin upwards so I could see those eyes. It was like the entire galaxy had been condensed into them. Little universes, there in her face. I bent down and kissed her with all the passion that was in me.

This is what I had been missing.

I broke away, and ran my finger along those soft pink lips that fit my own so well.

I hadn't been missing out. I had been waiting.

-------------------------------

I cant tell you how glorious those few months were. It was a secret, not one that hurt anyone, but a glorious one, a treasure, like a child keeps because it make' s it so much better. The crew didn't notice the cataloguing not getting done as fast as it should have. They didn't catch the winks or the soft brushing of bodies that occured in the busy corridors. Noone seemed to notice that whenever they were close enough for contact, our hands touched. Not long enough to be observed, just long enough for me to hear that one thought of hers that I loved to hear so much : I love you, darling.

We never particularly understood why we went about our affections in secret. One day, Susan just looked up at me and said: "I don't see why our love would be so shocking. We are not all that different at all." she took my hands in hers, "Red, green, it's still blood. Here, there" she motioned to her chest, and to under my left arm, "still beats a heart. It's completely logical."

However the fear of scorn and judgement did remain.

I should have listened to her.

I should have married her.

Right there, on the Enterprise, our home, amid our family and friends.

But it didn't seem logical to go through with such a service when the ship was always in some sort of turmoil or another.

There was one night in particular- although one of many- where I held her close to me as she slept.

It was very late. It was not in my better interests to be neglecting sleep as I was, however I was deeply absorbed in watching Susan's dreams pass lazily by. Most of them did not make sense, and none of them were particularly riveting, however the colors in which see thought things up were so vivid and alive that it captivated me. She had quite the imagination.

I ran my fingers lightly across her eyes.

Those sleeping galaxies.

It was moments like those when I felt full and complete. Like a solved problem.

Suddenly, the ship jerked quite violently.

I sat up, alert.

Susan's eyes fluttered open.

"Were we....hit?" she grumbled, wiping her eyes.

"It is a possibility."

I flung my legs over the edge of the bed, feeling for my boots. I knew that I would be called to the bridge momentarily.

I felt Susan's lips press softly against my ear.

My heart palpitated.

At the moment, I was most annoyed at whatever had decided to hit the Enterprise at such an inoppurtune moment.

I held my two fingers out, and she met them with her own.

I love you.

And I love you, Mr. Spock.

Turning, I kissed her tenderly, brushing her hair with my fingers.

Her hand caught itself in the seams of my shirt, begging silently for me to stay.

The intercom beeped loudly, and Kirk's voice suddenly rang through my quarters.

"Spock to bridge, paging Spock to bridge."

For a few joyous moments, I almost convinced myself to ignore it.

It was Susan who immediately pulled away.

She let out a sad sigh, and put her hand to my cheek, rubbing it sweetly with her thumb.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow then, eh Vulcan?"

I moved a sheet of her hair behind her shoulder.

"In a perfect reality, Starfleet wouldn't come first." I muttered, looking into her sleepy looking eyes.

She met my gaze, and for the first time I saw seriousness in them.

"The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, Mr. Spock." Her other hand met my other cheek, so she held my head in her hands, "You are supposed to help others before yourself. And before me."

I stood slowly.

"Susan, I do believe that is the most logical thing I have ever heard you say."

She grinned and fell back into the pillows.

"I must be overtired."

I smiled to myself and walked towards the door.

I cast a brief look back at her.

"Fascinating."

I shook my head and turned into the corridor.

Many nights passed in similar fashion to this one. Many scenarios with the same ending.

I knew that my life would always be with Susan in the end. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, and once those needs were met I intended on meeting my own. Someday.

It never had occurred to me that there wouldnt be a someday for us to settle down.

I, the man of logic and thinking through every option, had neglected the possibility of demise.

Something about love does that to a man.

It had blinded me, and when I woke up that morning, I was just that. A blind and irrevocably stupid man.

It was an extremely typical day.

I sat in my position on the bridge, reading the distortion coming off of the rogue planet we were hovering over.

Jim rose from his chair, and strode over to Lt. Uhura.

"Uhura, assemble a landing party. I would like to observe the cause of disturbance."

"Yes, Captain."

He turned to me.

"Spock, take over up here. Send Scotty the coordinates of the distortion. Alert me immediately if there is any change."

"Yes, Captain."

So routine, so routine.

I leaned forward in my chair to watch the viewing screen.

Nothing to raise an eyebrow over.

Hours passed, and there was still no change.

Everything was as it always is.

The bridge had gone so quiet, that when my communicator began beeping, it startled me vaguely.

I pushed the button down.

"Spock here."

"Spock, prepare to beam down. Inform McCoy that we have 2 casualties to beam up. Some kind of insect bite."

"Acknowledged. Spock out."

"Kirk out."

I felt an odd tug of annoyance.

To a space explorer, even life or death experiences seemed mundane after a period.

How naive I was.

I made my way to the transporter room.

On the way, I passed Dr. McCoy.

"Doctor."

He stopped and turned back to face me.

"There are 2 casualties being brought in board in need of an autopsy."

He nodded gravely, a look of melancholy crossing his face. That was the puzzling thing about McCoy. He had such a sense of humanity about him. Every crewman that died serving this ship, he felt a loss for. Emotions really were burdensome.

"Have them sent to sick bay." he responded, before continuing down the corridor.

I nodded, and turned into the transporter room.

I strode to where Scotty stood behind the control panel.

"Just a moment, Mr. Spock. Someone's beaming up."

I folded my hands behind my back, patiently.

Before us, the transporter emitted it's shrill whir and the figures began to materialize.

A security guard had beamed up with the 2 casualties.

Immediately 2 of the crewmen helped to heave the bodies onto gurneys.

I began to stride over to the transporter, when something caught the corner of my eye.

My head snapped back to recieve a more thorough glance.

Something swift, hard, and cold as ice hit me in the pit of my stomach.

The body on the gurney was Susan Perry.

The dirty blonde curtain of hair was tangled and matted against the board. Her eyes were the same deep blue they had always been, and always will be. However the life- all of the glittering stars and planets in her little galaxies, were gone. Extinguished like the candles on a birthday cake, nothing remaining but a polluted smoky haze. They stared up at the flourescent lights, stared but did not see.

Her eyelids were ringed in deep purple. If I hadn't heard the report of her death, I would have assumed she had been beaten. Aside from the black eyes, there were green and blue bruises on the side of her neck and hands.

Her hands.

I walked over to the gurney, halting the crewman who was wheeling it away.

I touched the pathetically broken hand, hoping that by some miracle I would hear those words once more.

Nothing but silence. Nothing but my own thoughts.

A wave of nausea rang through my body.

My hands moved quickly to the side of her head.

Still, silence.

She was simply an empty shell.

This was not Susan Perry.

"Who is it?" asked Mr. Scott, walking up behind me.

The security guard shrugged.

"Just another redshirt, sir."

A different emotion, one that I wasn't used to feeling, tightened inside of me along with my fist.

Anger.

It was appalling! How little regard humans show towards life!

Redshirt.

I had heard it a multitude of times around crewmen. A slang term, used in reference to one of the many nameless casualties the Enterprise so frequently expels. So named because the majority of those casualties were indeed, security guards and engineers.

Redshirt is the only title they would give Susan. No remorse would be felt for the loss of her light. Her star went out, and there were plenty more of them to carry on without her.

They disregarded that silver laugh. The flush in her cheeks. Her wit. Her smell.

I knew that she was not just another dead star in the galaxy.

There would be no other like her.

No other had her spark. No other fit me so well.

Thats when I felt it.

The pain.

It was sharper than I anticipated. It felt as though I had indeed been hit. My hand went mechanically to my heart cavity, half expecting to feel blood.

I would never again flip through her thoughts, taking in all that she was and giving her all that I am. I couldn't.

I closed my eyes. I felt the nausea returning with a heavy lurch.

The pain was becoming almost intolerable.

I wanted to cry out, just to relieve some of the pressure in my chest.

"Ready to beam down, sir?" Mr. Scott enquired, clapping me on the arm.

I opened my eyes again.

Susan had disappeared out the door, closely followed by the second body being wheeled behind her.

"The....Ensign." I choked out, motioning towards the closing door.

Scotty was back at the panel, readying me for transport.

"Ensigns die everyday, Mr. Spock."

I swallowed hard.

Deep in my memory banks, slowly something broke out and began leaking into the crevices of my mind.

Logic.

I looked back at Scotty.

"Correct, Mr. Scott."

I stepped into the transporter.

My chest stung violently.

A single tear rolled down my cheek, as Scotty pressed the button and I was beamed onto the planet.