Early days
Disclaimer: I own nothing. It's not my characters. It's all for the love of my favourite alien...
Part 6
Spock's point of view:
Spock was thinking about women.
He remembered the girl that, some years ago, decided to try to get a reaction from him by clinging to him and proclaiming her undying love. There was that day when she had cried and told him that she had to either get him to love her or go away to a colony on another planet. It wasn't that he didn't appreciated her skills and even found her quite attractive, but she wanted to make him human, which he knew he could not give her. He remembered how he was almost embarrassed on her behalf and slightly annoyed that she was trying to force him to be something he so obviously could not be. He compared the uncomfortable feeling he felt back then to the easy way he was able to exchange views with Nyota
His thoughts went to Vulcan and the short but concise message he and his betrothed T'Pring had exchanged right before he left. When she had learned that he had rejected the Vulcan Science Academy she did not hide her disapproval. She had tried to get him to stay where he was, agreeing with his father that the Vulcan way was the only right way to go. Only his mother had recognized that maybe he would find a home in Star Fleet that he could not find on Vulcan. T'Pring was content on Vulcan and she had never even once tried to contact him and it was extremely seldom he thought of her.
Spock sat in his chair, a cup of tea in front of him and the lights dimmed in his apartment, in the hope of calming him self. He was very tense and found it impossible to relax. The thought of Nyota being swept away by that dark-haired mongrel of a lung-worm-diseased smuggler…
Spock stopped himself. That was hardly fair to assume that Mr. Mitchell's parentage had had lung-worms… He had been filled with the urge to rip that cadet to pieces when he dared to take her away from where they were talking, and had he had the opportunity…
Spock stopped once more and shifted in his chair. It was definitely the mental image of Nyota walking away on the arm of that… Spock breathed a big calming breath.
OK, there was now the acceptance of him experiencing jalousie at the thought of Nyota flirting with other men. The acceptance came with a feeling in his body of having a large object on his heart. That was rather unfair, he thought, as his heart wasn't even where humans had theirs. He should have been able to avoid this feeling of sinking.
Jalousie was just a temporary state of being. He recognized the feeling and allowed it to linger a moment before gently sending it away, out in the universe. A state of being, like sadness and hunger and wanting and anger and…
Spock rose from his chair and started wandering back and fort in his apartment.
He knew it was very unlikely that she would choose to spend the evening with him, given her need for laughter and open expression of feelings, which was something he knew he would not be able to give her. He was, after all, prone to long silences and long trains of thought.
He may be considered very smart both on Earth and on Vulcan, but a human female would object the constricted lifestyle he could offer. He was just too different, with no home either on Vulcan or on Earth. And besides he expected to get an assignment on a Star Ship in foreseeable future. This would take him away from Earth for a very long time and make impossible any relationship…
Spock stopped and looked out the window, into the night. Hands on his back.
He remembered that night when he walked her home after dinner, and realized that maybe she had been telling him something, without speaking it. Maybe she had tried to tell him that he should have initiated some sort of physical contact.
He had seen it many times; couples embracing or holding hands on campus, but never thought that maybe that was what she had expected him to do. He had never felt the need to touch anyone like that and it certainly wasn't what was done on Vulcan… Why should they? Everything that was needed to sense the thoughts and sensibilities was a touch of the fingers.
That was the way he had always thought it. In fact he had, when he first came to the Academy on Earth thought it indiscreet and bad manners to publicly flaunt such emotions. That had been the most difficult to accept. Humans apparently enjoyed these things, and he had, over time, learned to ignore it.
Now, however, he was slowly loosing all ability to concentrate or indeed think logically, at the thought of Nyota embracing the dark-haired diseased-ridden cadet. Spock held his breath as he wondered how it would be if he were to put his arms around Nyota. How would her eyes look? How would her body feel pressed up against his? Would her mind be open to him? Would she accept his touch?
He paused. This was an extremely illogical train of thought. He had never made any claim on Nyota, and surely the choice she made, to follow the celebratory group was quite natural. She had finished top at the class and he knew very well that she had worked very hard to perfect her skills as a xenolinguist. She even surpassed him at times… He smiled to himself. She truly was quite the human being…
Spock went back to his chair, sat down and allowed him self to indulge in the vision of Nyota working and concentrating. He remembered her scent when they were working late in his office and he could almost hear her voice asking him questions.
The memory of her sitting with her legs pulled up under her in the lounge chair and her head tilted back to look at him while he was talking about the lessons filled his mind. Sometimes when she was concentrating on some subject she forgot he was there and started singing to her self while she read. When that happened he usually allowed himself to stop what he was working on and simply observe her. He would sit there and quietly bask in the moment.
Suddenly he was lost in a wave of regret. Why had he not made clear to her how he was feeling? Why had he just sat there? The human in him reared and he wanted to find her and tell her what he had discovered…
He straightened in his seat. Everything was as before. He was still half Vulcan, still soon to go away, still unable to fit in. He let the Vulcan in him take control. It was time to be sensible and to stop this foolish lingering. There was nothing to do that to accept the situation and move on.
He sat very still for a while trying to get the two sides of his to come to terms. With an irritated sigh he stood up, went to his closet and pulled out his exercise clothes. Maybe a run would help…