The BLTS Archive- Tears in The Rain
Six: Small Comforts
by Laura Jacquez Valentine (jacquez@dementia.org)

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The Enterprise was nothing like I expected.  I came on board to see
he-who-is-my-husband, and to apologize--if it is possible to
apologize--to his captain.  This was a human thing, Spock had assured
me, when I asked if I should ritually submit to Captain Kirk.

Spock knew that I could not have borne the ritual submission.  And he
knew that his captain would not have understood.  So I followed the
instructions he gave me: I pulled the Captain aside, and I looked up
at him and touched his arm and apologized.  "Captain Kirk, I know that
I cannot explain what I did.  It was unfair of me to involve you.  I
must beg you not to hold my actions against my husband."

He frowned down at me, his eyes hard, but his voice was calm and even
when he spoke.  "You have my word on it."

I nodded.  "Thank you, Captain.  That is all I want."

And Spock was right, of course.  It was the perfect thing to say.  The
Captain now saw me as a confused woman who loved her husband--he saw
me in a human way, not as...how did Amanda put it?  "Some cold alien
bitch."

He-who-is-my-husband knows his Captain well, and I am honored to be
the wife of such a man.

I wish that I could honor him with my body as I do with my mind.  He
has not asked, because he knows what he-who-was-my-master did to me.
He will never ask, not until the burning comes.

When he came in from his shift, I was sitting on his bed, my legs
tucked under me.  "Spock?"

"My wife?"

"Spock, I--"

He smiled at me.  "My wife, I know.  You need to heal."

I ducked my head.  "You have always known me best."

He reached out and tweaked my nose, as he had so many times in the
past.  "Do you want something."

I stretched one of my feet towards him, nudged his knee gently.  That
was physical contact I felt safe making, safe like the nose-tweaking
was safe.  "Amanda says she used to make you hot chocolate when you
visited her family."

"Yes.  Do you want some?"

"I have never had hot chocolate, my husband."  I nudged his knee
again. "It is very cold on this ship of yours."

He turned to the small replicator in the corner, and asked it for two
mugs of hot chocolate.  He handed one of them to me, and sat next to
me on the bed.  I leaned against his shoulder, pressing into
him--another safe move, arm to arm, no threat.

Just the safety of my oldest friend, offering me the small comforts
that were so much a part of him.  Of us.

I have my Spock.  I have my hot chocolate.  Life...life is good.

Or getting there.

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The End