"It was a logical decision. Starfleet offered me an excellent opportunity, and I felt I could contribute more than as just one extra Vulcan on the colony."

Spock replayed this statement in his head as he sat in the meditation position, wondering if it was entirely true.

He had planned to return to the colony up until the day of Nyota's graduation. Spock had attended the ceremony, and then seated himself in a chair near the back of the reception hall. He didn't expect anyone to sit next to him, people usually found it awkward or worried they'd get stuck in a long, boring conversation. The Starfleet Graduation Ceremony, surnames T-Z was no exception.

Nyota had gone off to be with her friends, which didn't bother him. He had never really been comfortable around them, he felt too old, too pale and conspicuously tall. He disliked their tacit aknowledgement of his relationship with Nyota. Spock was relieved to be sitting in the shadows, unnoticed, when Kirk sat next to him.

"Today has got to be the best day of your life," he proclaimed, without saying hello.

Spock turned to look at Kirk, not sure if he was pleased to see him. He didn't know what the best day of his life had been so far, but he was pretty sure it hadn't involved any receptions.

"I am unsure what you mean by that," Spock responded honestly.

"Don't give me that innocent face," Kirk chided, "I'm sure you didn't attend out of a deep love of long, boring ceremonies."

"I came to see my students," he replied.

"But tonight," Kirk said with a sly grin, rubbing his hands together suggestively, "She isn't your student any longer."

Spock knew this well. It was a crutch he was going to miss. But he turned to Kirk and gave him his most disdainful glare.

"That is the last thing on my mind," he stated slowly, with forced monotone. Or maybe the second to last. Or the third to last. Or ... well, it was roving around somewhere up there, but it certainly wasn't anywhere near the forefront.

"Right, Spock," Kirk retorted, with a look that was a little too knowing, "But don't expect me to believe any of those stories about what Vulcans don't do."

Spock shivered, slightly unnerved.

"What brings you here?" Spock asked, wondering if this was one of those situations where humans assumed what is true of themselves is true of others.

Kirk passed him a PADD he was holding,

"Jason Zimmerman," he said, indicating a photo in the center, "Have you seen him around?"

"Why do you need to find him," Spock asked.

"He's been assigned to the Enterprise. I've been going to these ceremonies, introducing myself to everyone new, so we won't be strangers when they come aboard. Do you think that's a good idea?"

Spock thought it was an excellent idea, but didn't want to give Kirk the pleasure of a compliment.

"I saw him at the drink table three minutes and nine seconds ago," Spock stated plainly, racking his perfect memory.

"Well, he can't have gone too far in three minutes, nine seconds," Kirk said in what Spock though was a joking tone. He stood up, and did what no else one ever did. He put his hand on Spock's shoulder.

"Good luck," he said with a wink, "And don't work too hard."

And with a quick pat, he was gone.

*****

"Are you sure you don't want to go out with your friends?" Spock asked as soon as he had entered her quarters.

"No thanks," she said with a bit of a grin, "I've had enough drunk parties for a lifetime."

"I just wanted to be sure ... that you do not feel compelled ..."

"Of course not," she said, moving closer and kissing him. It was a kiss that rolled on as she pulled him close and ran her hands though his hair.

"Nyota," he said suddenly, "I have decided to go back."

"What?" she asked, pulling away.

"I have decided to return to the colony and to start a family. It seems like the best option, given the circumstances."

She looked at him, horrified.

"You don't mean that Spock," she said, her expression turning to one of deep disappointment.

"I mean ..." he said slowly, "If it was a matter of solely personal considerations, I would rather stay here with you, but given the possibility of the extinction of the Vulcan race ..."

"You mean," she whispered, with mounting anger, "Rather than stay here with me, you want to go out to New Vulcan and be miserable?"

Spock didn't know what to do except nod.

"Well I hope you're miserable!" she screamed, enraged.

"Nyota," he whispered, "If I had any choice ..."

"Of course you have a choice! Just say you won't go, like you did with the Vulcan Science Academy!" she yelled.

"That was different," he said calmly, lifting a hand to touch her hair. She batted it away.

"Yeah," she screamed, "They would never, truly accept you even if you were one of the last living Vulcans, and now you are one and you come crawling back."

"It isn't ..."

"I think you're racist!" she accused suddenly.

"What?"

"Does it really matter if there are no full Vulcans left? Do you really need to drop everything just because there aren't as many Vulcans in the universe?"

"Nyota, that's only part of ..."

"Isn't that the plan! That you're going to take a Vulcan wife and have Vulcan children, because a human wife isn't good enough ..." she looked deranged as she spoke.

"That is a most convoluted way of interpreting my choice."

"Is it? You know I would have children for you. And you said it didn't matter that I wasn't Vulcan, that you would always be there ... and now ... now I'm not good enough!" her rage seemed to crumple and tears ran down her face.

"I never could have predicted a catastrophe of this magnitude," he whispered desperately, "And it isn't just children. I am more well-versed in our culture and heritage than most. I hope to teach ..."

Then strangely, bizarrely, Nyota began to chuckle. She threw her head back and began to laugh hysterically.

"I don't think ten thousand is enough, Spock," She snorted, "Five thousand? Two thousand? How many do you think they'll need to be down to before they'll let you anywhere near their impressionable youth?"

"Nyota, I just want for you to understand..."

"Get out!" she screamed, "Get out!"

He reached out to touch her, but she slapped his hand away with such force that he was surprised the hand wasn't broken.

He left her on the sofa, in a heap, crying.

***

Leaving her quarters, Spock felt drained. It was all over. There was no more worrying, there was not more fighting, there was no more strategizing. There was nothing left but a deep stab of regret and a feeling that he was going to miss her. That he might miss her already.

Spock didn't want to return to his quarters. He didn't think he could meditate, sleep was out of the question and even his last solace, work and grading was completed for the semester. There would be nothing to do but be alone with his thoughts. He decided to walk through the cadet quarters on this night of celebration, hoping that there would be some messes to clean up, rule-breakers to discipline or medical emergencies to handle. Anything that would keep his mind off of his despair.

"That's not a smile on your face!" a voice rang out. Spock looked down and saw Kirk sitting on the floor, drinking from a bottle of whiskey, looking slightly disoriented.

"Consuming intoxicating beverages in the hallway is prohibited!," Spock barked.

"So court-martial me," Kirk challenged, drawing the bottle up to his mouth, and taking a swig, "I wouldn't be here, except stupid Bones challenges me to a drinking content, claiming he had some delaxapyl to sober me up, only he didn't."

"So you are too intoxicated to walk to the celebration."

"Well, I was there ... but then I followed a girl back, but she wouldn't let me in ..."

"Why not?" Spock asked.

"She said I was drunk," Kirk slurred, emphasizing the word as if it was the biggest injustice he had ever experienced.

"Are women usually not so observant?" Spock asked, with raised eyebrows.

"Cheers to that!" Kirk yelled, raising his bottle, causing the liquid to slosh out slightly. Spock stood over him and stared.

"So, why the long face?" Kirk asked eventually.

Spock told him.

"What?!" Kirk demanded in drunken astonishment, "You actually did it. Oh man, oh man."

He proffered his drink towards Spock, as if it would solve all ills.

"No, thanks," Spock said, waving it away. Kirk shrugged his shoulders and took another long swig.

"Did she take it well?" Kirk asked.

Spock racked his brain, trying to think of a word that was the opposite of well.

"I guess not," Kirk said after awhile. He paused to take another sip, "That's too bad, I mean she's smoking hot, but man, she is someone you do not want mad at you."

Kirk's head rolled back, in a slight stupor, and he continued, "Not that it matters, she's so hot, now that you're done with her, I have half a mind to ..."

Spock felt a flash of rage, and before he knew what he was doing, he was on his knees with his hands at Kirk's throat.

"If you value me as a friend ..." he snarled in a tone that meant, "If you value your life."

In his drunkenness, Kirk didn't fight back, but sagged like a rag doll, snapping Spock out of his rage.

"I apologize," he whispered, shaking.

"No, I'm sorry," Kirk said, still gasping slightly, "I shouldn't have said that."

"I will not be offended if you decide to press charges," Spock continued.

"Nonsense," Kirk replied, "But I really think you should have a drink."

"I should have learned by now," Spock said thoughtfully, "That choking you never accomplishes anything."

Kirk threw his head back and laughed hysterically. Then he handed Spock the bottle.

"I cannot drink alcohol," Spock said quietly, "It will do permanent damage to my Vulcan physiology."

But Spock had an idea.

"I have a bottle of Romulan ale back in my quarters ... a gift from the ambassador ... if you want to go have some ... if you can still walk, that is."

Kirk glared at him before he got to his feet.

*****

The pair sat facing each other at Spock's kitchen table as he uncorked the bottle of blue liquid and poured them each a glass. Kirk took a sip and asked,

"This is non-intoxicating, isn't it."

"For humans, yes," Spock replied. Kirk shrugged and tried to pour some whiskey into it. Spock put his hand over the glass to block him.

"This is an excellent vintage," he snapped, "you can tell by the floral scent. It is supposed to be appreciated."

Kirk pushed it away and continued with his whiskey. Spock emptied the glass, and then got up and pulled a half-empty bottle of brandy from the cupboard.

"Have this," he said, slamming it on the table, "I just kept it around for Nyota."

"You would ply your girlfriend with alcohol?" Kirk asked jokingly.

"I only kept it around because she asked repeatedly," Spock snapped, standing up.

"I was joking, I was joking," Kirk yelled, waving him away. Spock let his shoulders drop and went to the cupboard again. He pulled out potato chips. Peanut butter and crackers. Jelly beans. All the food that she liked that he would never eat.

"All yours," he said, sitting down and taking another drink.

Kirk started on the potato chips.

"So what next?" he asked.

"I will take a transport to the colony and set up a home, and then I will enter into an arranged marriage with a Vulcan wife."

"I bet she'll hate you," Kirk sputtered drunkenly.

"Is that based on your understanding of Vulcan women?" Spock asked.

"No, it's based on my understanding of women in general."

Spock considered getting up again to threaten Kirk, but he thought he might be too drunk. He never did have much of a tolerance for Romulan ale. Kirk seemed to sense his anger.

"What I'm trying to say," he corrected, "Is that you're a complicated sort of guy that's only interested in a special sort of girl who is logical and dedicated and intellectual and just happens to be really, really hot." He said the last part with a drunken wink that required most of his face, "And I really thought you had a good thing going with Uhura."

"Children are the most important thing now," Spock countered, with his head spinning.

"And if you had any sense, you would be impregnating her right now, instead of talking to me."

Spock slammed his glass down as hard as he could, but he was so drunk it didn't even break. Kirk took it from him, filled it, and slid it across the table. He drank it. He felt weak.

"You do not know how much I regret having to make this decision, Jim," he said quietly.

"Then don't," Kirk yelled, "I might have a conflict of interest here, but I think you belong on the Enterprise!"

"But it is my responsibility ..."

"Listen to me," Kirk said, leaning across the table and grabbing his shoulders, "I am the voice in your head that is telling you that you've made a mistake. That you don't want to leave Starfleet. That you don't want to leave her."

" But Cadet – I mean Captain .."

"You don't understand," Kirk boomed, "It doesn't matter what you call me. You are no longer Spock the Starfleet officer. You are Spock the Vulcan sperm donor."

Spock thought he might cry, but of course, that would be unprecedented for a Vulcan, so he controlled himself. He picked up the bottle of ale drank straight out of it. It was at that point his memory went blank.

*****

When Spock woke up the next morning, he had lost his will. He checked his vitals, and they told him he was no longer intoxicated, but still, something had changed. When he ran into Spock from the other universe, he just confirmed what he knew already. That leaving Starfleet felt wrong. Or perhaps it was Jim Kirk's final insult hanging in his mind. Regardless, he knew what he had to do.

It was a perfectly logical decision.