Jim sighed impatiently.
"What's the matter? Is it Uhura?," he shook his head as he lay beside his lover. "She's been such a bitch about this--,"
Spock rolled over. He hated seeing the look of triumph on Jim's face when Nyota had made her announcement.
"She is not 'being a bitch about this,' she is doing what any human would have done. Actually, she had performed admirably considering the circumstances."
"Oh," Jim growled and angrily got up and began throwing on his clothes, "Not you too? Damn, it seems like that woman has everyone wrapped around her little finger. Everyone's looking at ME like it's my fault she's leaving--,"
"It is not your fault," Spock told him.
"Finally, some agreement," Jim commented, "I was beginning to think--,"
"The fault lies with me."
"I—what? What do you mean the fault lies with you? It's our freakin' destiny! It's what the universe wants, it's what--,"
"It is what we wanted. Not the universe, not elder Spock, it was what we wanted. I am not even sure that it is what I want anymore."
Jim stared at Spock incredulously. "What do you mean? Wasn't it you who begged me to take you to my bed? To be with me?"
"I—I am sorry if this distresses you. I do not want Nyota to leave. I do not want her to hurt. I can still feel her sorrow even now."
"What about my sorrow Spock? What about me?," he cried.
Spock stared at Jim. Where was the valiant, strong Captain Kirk in which elder Spock had waxed poetic? Where was the reliable and affable Captain who would risk it all to save his crew? The man that stood before him—was not the Kirk of legend. He seemed—like an immature child intent upon getting what he wanted, no matter what the cost to others.
"Are you not worried about her Jim? The thoughts that I have felt from her have—disturbed me."
"Of course I'm worried, but she's got to get over it sometime. She's irrational, acting distant, not caring about the baby--,"
"I would advise you not speak of the child," Spock told him, his eyes shining slightly with unshed tears.
"Oh hell Spock, I'm—I'm sorry," he relented. "I just wanted her to be—I don't know. More broken up about it I guess. It just seems like she's—she's,"
"She has a right to her feelings," Spock interjected, "As do we all. Jim, I—I am very fond of you. I—have enjoyed our time together. It has been—illuminating. But I cannot let her leave."
Jim stared at his lover and at the bed the even now smelled of their sex, of their passion for each other. "No," he told him.
"We cannot be, at least at this time," Spock told him.
"You can't!" Jim scolded, "You can't be with me one minute and then not be with me the next. It's like I don't matter--," Jim stopped and stared off into space.
"I guess this is what Nyota was feeling. What I'm feeling right now," Jim looked over at Spock, his faced etched in sadness.
"I know I should be sorry that she's hurting. But I don't want to care. After all, this whole situation brought me to you."
Spock stood and began to dress. "Spock. I—just wanted her to see that this was for the best. You and me, we're good together and she's my friend, and I—don't want to see her hurt, but I don't want to lose you either."
Spock picked up his shirt and Jim grabbed it. "Listen to me!"
"I am listening Jim."
"What are you going to do? Go to her and beg her to take you back? Beg her to stay? You can't do that! I've already pushed the order through to transfer her."
"Rules, can be amended. You and I know this well."
Jim grabbed him and Spock gently extricated himself from Jim's embrace. "Please," Jim cried, "Don't leave me."
Spock looked back at Jim as he dropped to his knees and cried as if he were a child. Nyota had not cried. He could feel her distress, her anger and her intense pain as if it was a wave and it would drown him upon her shore. But she did not cry. She had been strong. She was stronger than anyone he had ever met, Vulcan, human or otherwise. .
Spock slipped on his shoes and gave one last look at the man who had been his lover, his partner, his friend. Then he turned gracefully on his heel and made his way to Nyota.
********