The BLTS Archive- The Vigil
#4: Uhura
by Istannor (Istannor@aol.com)

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These are the characters of paramount and viacom, they own them I only
check 'em out from the library. I promise to bring 'em back.

Feedback is welcome.

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I think I'll go down and visit  with Jim. He's probably bored stiff in
sickbay. McCoy told everyone today that he's keeping him in a few
extra days, for caution's sake. I think he's just mad at him for
risking his neck again. Those two, or should I say, those three. Can't
leave out my darling Spock. Now there's a man who knows the blues.
Such a beautiful old soul, in a Vulcan body, in love with a natural
phenomenon, passing himself off as a human.

I just love the secret smile Jim gives me sometimes. I can remember
how he tastes.

Now, now Nyota, you know you both agreed not to revisit old territory.
But Sugar, that man sure can make a woman smile. He was so sweet. Up
close and personal, he smells    like sex. Skin soft as a lamb, over
muscles hard as steel. His eyes turn gold and flash, when he makes
love. When he ate me, I felt as if I was gourmet cooking. I don't
think he missed a single millimeter of my skin. Yes, I think he got it
all taken care of, even the part between my toes. He moved in me like
swells of waves, washing over me, tumbling around in and under the
water, fearing to, but daring to drown. Sweet Jim,  it's getting warm
in here just thinking about it. Shoot, he'll even cook for you in the
morning. Spock has no idea what he's asking for. I don't even think he
knows what to do with it, if he gets it. Darling, ignorant, baby that
he is.

When was the last time? As if I had to ask. That would be Starbase 19,
the last time the Enterprise and the Farragut put in to port together,
before the Farragut ran into that cloud creature. I remember when I
saw him standing in the dock transporter room when I beamed down,
waiting for me, just for me. What a smile. It lit up the entire
quadrant. There in front of everyone he picked me up, pulled me to
him, and kissed me as if I was his last breath of air. Why did I ever
give that up? Fear of drowning, fear of being lost, consumed by his
passions, his wants, his needs. Too strong, Jim, my avatar, you are
too damn strong for your own good. You frightened us lesser mortals
until we left you, and now you've given up on having anyone.

When we left the transporter room I can remember someone saying, my
god what in the galaxy did she do, to deserve all of that, and can I
do it too. We made love for three whole days, almost nonstop. We loved
with the desperation that comes of knowing, we might never see each
other again. Then we left, you to your ship and me to mine. Two months
later, the Farragut got hit by the cloud creature, and nothing was
ever the same again.

I ran because you meant too much to me, and you needed me, racked with
guilt as you were. The guilt was senseless, but it was so you. You
would blame yourself for Eve eating the apple if you could. I ran
because you made me want to give up everything to be with you, beside
you, to shield you, and keep you from hurting. I couldn't do that. I
couldn't give up space and star sounds in the night. Even though you
never asked it, I wanted to offer it, so I left. You even forgave me
that, said it was your fault. Just like you forgave Spock and Bones
for leaving you. How do you do that ?

When you asked me if I wanted to come back to you, I should've told
the truth. Yes, yes, always have, always will. No, the last thing
either of us needed then, was you taking over a new ship, and having
an affair with your chief of communications. All eyes were already on
you, anyway. They would have loved to find an excuse to take your
command away back then. You were so young and honorable. What other
man would have honored my decision as you have, I wonder? I should
have said yes, but I didn't.

Then along comes a Vulcan, a fearful, tender, rigid, fractured, soul
and you heal him. Now the healed, reborn man wants you and only you,
but it may be too late. The rest of life may have killed the joy in
you that I once shared. You would give and give, and still I felt like
I was losing myself. You warp space around you, Sweet Jim. We get lost
in your eddies.

Spock of Vulcan, in love with a human male. Who would've thought that?
Shit, I figured that one out before Gary died. Mitchell was such a
consummate ass around Spock. Jealousy will do that to a man and man
was he ever  jealous. You, James Kirk, were his best friend, his
Captain, his ticket to glory.  Spock was strong enough, brilliant
enough, and egoless enough to stand at your side, Jim, not running
behind you trying to keep up, like Gary. Gary would never have been
able to keep up with you. The rest of the crew saw that early on. But,
Spock was different. He treated you differently than he ever treated
Captain Pike, from the first moment he saw you. He would flower when
you walked in and wilt back into himself when you left the room. You
had that kind of power over him from the first. His head would turn to
you whenever he heard your voice, no matter what he was doing. He had
a conditioned reflex. When you laughed, his left eyebrow would raise
just a bit. He couldn't help himself.

At first, I thought you were being nice to him just because that was
you. Look at yourself, Jim.  Stop lying. You saw in him someone who
might not burn in your flames. You finally saw someone who could stand
against your strength, someone you could rest on, someone as brilliant
as yourself. You try to act as if your success is luck. Hell if I know
why. Maybe someone told you once, that real men aren't brilliant. What
a crock. You are just plain smarter than the rest of us. I have no
idea why you  try to act like you are only human. You aren't, at least
not anymore.

Admit it. You saw Spock, and wanted him so you took him, bit by
microscopic bit, until he looked up and you owned his soul. Smart
enough to seduce a Vulcan aren't you?

Now my Dulcet Jim, my secret song master, what are you going to do
with your captive Vulcan heart? He wants you. There will be no more
T'Prings. He's gotten other offers. I know. I've read them. Bad girl,
Nyota. He refuses them all. He's waiting for you. I know it isn't any
kind of hang-up you have against having sex with a man. I've known you
to fuck beings you weren't certain if they were male or female. How
about your fling with that Andorian awhile back? I think you made that
one change sexes after you finished with it. No, Sweet Jim, it's not
that, so what is it? I will never believe you don't love him. No dear,
can't convince me of that, ever.

So, what is stopping you? Chain of command, regulations, your
shipboard romance rule, fear of what the crew might think. Baby, they
will be standing in the halls cheering you two on. It's been a topic
of discussion for seven years. I think Sulu has seven years, three
months in the betting pool. No, rules and regs never stopped you. So
what is it? Ah, I know, now. It's fear. I'll be darn. You've finally
found something you're afraid of, love. This would be the kind of love
that won't leave you, won't fail you and might break you if it died.
Darn, I can't help you with this, Jim. You have to find your own
courage to take this step.

In my homeland, they have a saying, "Hearts do not meet one another
like roads." You will have to find each other my friends.

Spock is off duty. He'll be there, sitting beside you, like he has for
so many times before, trying to not radiate his love for you. McCoy
will be fussing, moving around the sickbay, shouting out his love for
you.  I'll go in and sing to you of my love for you. How many more of
us have you bitten?  All of us on one level or another, in love with
our bronze, fiery, green eyed Captain. I wonder if we will ever leave
you still breathing. You have never asked us to stay. You give us all
opportunities to take promotions. We just smile and go back to our
stations, where we belong.

Let me go in here and sing to you, so sad, so sweet, so lonely, my
Jim, my Captain and make you give me one of your secret smiles. I
think I'll make Mr. Spock play a duet with me. He plays so sweetly
now. At first, he was a "technically correct musician". Now, he is a
lyrical master, who makes his harp sing. I think he would like to play
you like that also, my Captain. He wants to make you sing. I'd like to
hear that. Yes, I truly would.

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The End