Wasteland

Jim felt like he'd been punched in the gut.

'Everyone lost someone'?

Spock could say the most appalling things so simply, even matter-of-factly.

The guy even was able to convincingly convey the impression that he truly had no feelings at all. Lots of people would choose to believe that.

Yet - if only for a moment, and in the form of another mind - Jim Kirk had been touched by the pain that was held at bay behind those simple words.

What could he possibly say?

He shifted uncomfortably in his chair – closing, by the tiniest amount, the gap between them. Attracted by the motion, Spock's eyes slid toward him.

The Vulcan did not look away as Jim leaned in.

"Spock, not everyone knew what was happening, not everyone – saw."

"That is true," Spock said, his lips forming the words very slowly.

After a long moment of silence, something in Spock's gaze altered; and Jim was able to once again anticipate an apparent change of subject. Still, when the words actually arrived, he was surprised by them.

"Captain," his Science Officer observed, turning his chair slightly, "Vulcan colonization methods were very different from those employed by Humans."

Well, alright, Jim thought, I'll bite. "Is that so, Mr. Spock?"

"Indeed." Spock's spine straightened a little; and resting his forearms on the edge of the desk, he templed his fingers in front of him: This was a posture very familiar to anyone who had ever attended one of Spock's briefings.

Watching him, Jim could almost feel him thinking. There was a moment when he seemed to change his mind about what he should say…

"You noticed, no doubt, that I said 'were.'" Spock glanced up in order to receive the nod he obviously expected from Jim. "In such times as these, it is difficult to know how some things will proceed."

Amused in spite of himself, Jim was very glad that Vulcans were mainly touch-telepaths, and that Spock was unlikely to accidently pick up the name Jim was mentally calling him at the moment. "No doubt," Jim said, mimicking Spock's tone to the best of his ability.

Spock's eyebrow rose a fraction of an inch. He was silent for a second or two. "I apologize. My facetious comment was unwarranted. I was attempting to put you at your ease, but I can see that I underestimated you."

Jim grinned at that. "No, it totally worked. Just maybe not the way you intended it to."

Spock nodded. "I would believe that that is a fair assessment."

Jim nodded also. They were in complete agreement on that, anyway.

He leaned back in his chair, and waited for Spock to carry on. When a minute passed and the Vulcan remained silent, Jim spread his hands in his habitual shrug. "So, 'Vulcan colonization methods'?"

"Ah, yes. Vulcans developed space flight technology long before the people of Earth did. However, our purposes were very different."

Spock drummed his fingers, for a second, on the desktop. He seemed to realize what he was doing and glanced up to see if Jim had noticed.

When their eyes met, Spock stood. Jim saw that as an impulsive movement, one he might have made himself…

Spock walked away those three familiar paces, then came back half-way to stand looking down at his Captain.

"I do not wish to lecture you," Spock stated.

"Spock, you're fine," Jim assured him.

"Hmmm." Spock said.

Spock looked at him for another few seconds; then, crossing his arms, took several long deliberate steps. Jim was sure he was going to start speaking any moment: He had seen the man do this same thing, any number of times, in the Briefing Room.

But he did not speak, and after just a turn or two, his arms unbent. Yet, he continued his slow perambulation.

It took Jim a moment to register what it was that Spock was actually doing – and truly, it wasn't much different from what Jim had done, as he (in defiance of his own nervousness) snooped in Spock's stuff. The only difference, really, Jim supposed, was that Spock knew what everything was; and he touched with two careful fingers in a gesture that was hardly noticeable when he did it, but seemed quite characteristic, just the same.

Jim was very used to listening to Spock talk – and to watching him pace. He really did spend a lot of time with the guy. But that was in the working environment of the ship - or on a random planet - or on a base somewhere, even. Coming here as infrequently as Jim did, it felt a bit strange to see Spock move soundlessly about the red-draped rooms that were his home.

However, Spock did not much seem to mind that Jim was watching him, so Jim didn't much worry about it, either.

His quarters were so quiet that any noise seemed startling when it broke the stillness. Spock spoke softly, in a musing tone, but Jim was not expecting it after his silence, and he jumped.

"Vulcan," Spock said, his fingers resting on the warrior sculpture that had intrigued Jim so, "is – was – an arid planet." He turned partway, his eyes far away over Jim's head. "You Humans often say 'a desert wasteland,' but I must confess I never saw that."

Jim knew he was guilty of thinking that exact thing: It embarrassed him, a little, that Spock should know of that assessment. Other words in common use – 'harsh', 'inhospitable', 'cruel', 'barren', 'desolate' – were no more complimentary; and his one visit to that world had not afforded him the opportunity to form a more favorable opinion.

Now, it was too late.

Spock's gaze sharpened and dropped. "To me, it was 'home.'"

After a second, Spock moved a little closer; Jim was able to feel those eyes looking into him.

"Vulcan's past was violent, the people barbaric. They – we - fought for water, and for food, and for the sheer pleasure of fighting – and killing." Spock's voice was deep, almost rough, as he told the primal story of the planet that gave him birth, and there seemed to be a host of voices silent between the words. "When the Time came upon them, they fought for mates who could bring desirable characteristics into the clan.

"The Vulcan people understood want. They understood need. And because these things were such a part of who they were - and how they lived - they learned, also, to be careful with what they had.

"They held their lands against their neighbors, and learned that strangers had things to offer.

"And knowledge - the thing that would allow one clan to triumph over another, to survive in the times of the heated winds – was protected as fiercely as the females who would preserve the line."

Listening to Spock in the heat and dimness of his quarters, with the spicy, dusty scent in his nostrils, Jim Kirk felt a shiver run down his spine. Spock - so cool, so collected - talked as though this was something he had lived through, himself: In every 'they,' Jim heard the 'we.' He looked up at his First Officer, there in the silence, and saw long limbs - and the power he kept hidden behind stillness and deliberation and an expressionless face. Jim was acutely aware, again, of the dangerous strength held in check by Spock's fierce iron will… And something in his stomach tightened.