Title: Clouds
Author: Istannor
Series: TOS
Part: 1/1
Rating: [PG13]
Codes:
Summary: This story depicts the state of mind of
Commander Spock as he visited the Cloud City on a
medical mission with Captain Kirk. Our research
indicates that it was dictated by Commander Spock
at some time soon after the event. It was heavily
encrypted.

Disclaimer: 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.
Thank-you to the Beta Dominitrix Editor, Mary
Ellen, the Doc of Science, at whose behest this
was dragged from our archives. If there are no
errors, thank her, not me.

Feedback to Istannor@Aol.com




He looked across at the sleeping form of his
Captain. How could he ever have thought that he
would be able to resist this Human's pull?

The city of the cloud dwellers was beautiful and
elegant, even to his practiced eye. Kirk had
fallen asleep in their shared room, obviously
exhausted. He rarely slept on a diplomatic
mission, but the last few missions had taken hold
of them both and refused to let them go. Spock
pursed his lips in thought. It had become
inevitable that they part; he knew that now. There
was no give in either of them lately. Kirk had
become driven, obsessed with the desire for his
ship and his crew to be the first to survive a
five year deep space mission. That left nothing
for the conversation they both knew they had to
have.

It was always tomorrow.

Spock continued to watch Kirk. The Human was not
truly relaxed, even in sleep. Finally he turned to
enter the next room. Perhaps, he thought, he
should meditate among the clouds. The view might
help him come to the inner balance that had
escaped him for so long.

He realized he had only a short time to enjoy the
vista that spread out before him. They should be
able to collect the medical supplies and be on
their way within the day. He doubted he would ever
return to this place of clouds and careful beauty.
It was insubstantial, so unlike his life with his
captain. Kirk and he lived an existence that
balanced continuously on the edge. They teetered
on the edge of life, or death; the farthest edge
of friendship, and the edge of what else? Even he
did not know.

His Captain was an avowed heterosexual. How would
he deal with the ache that had arisen in Spock's
very soul? How could Spock ask such a man to
commit to him, whom even T'Pring did not desire?
His Captain could have anyone he chose, why would
he ever choose the one called Spock?

T'hy'la. Spock bit back a frown. Jim had offered
it without thought or seeming hesitation. "I don't
want you to die for lack of a mate, Spock. You'll
find who you want one day. In the meantime, I will
serve. It is my right. You have pledged fealty.
You can't die on me without my permission, and I
won't give it. If Pon Farr comes before you find
who you want, use me."

Spock remembered thinking that the Human truly did
not understand. "Use me." Is that would Jim
thought the outcome would be, the senseless use of
a blind orifice? He did not wish to use anyone.
There was no one else to draw him. There would
never be anyone else for him to Bond with. The
woman, or man, Spock chose as his Bondmate, would
be the one who would be used. Jim would be the
face in the flames.

She came across the room. Her smell wafted over
the gentle breeze, like a fresh breath of fruit
after a desert storm. No doubt, she had chosen the
fragrance intentionally. She was tall, erect and
beautiful, soft, with firm breasts that teased at
his awareness from under her diaphanous gown. She
was the type of woman Jim would normally have
arranged to bed by now, but she was not interested
in Jim, and Jim, strangely enough, was not
attracted to her. Jim had looked at her when they
had transmitted the message to the planetary
council and his vision had scuttled over her as if
she was unreal. McCoy had commented on her beauty
and Jim had shrugged and changed the subject.

Perhaps she was unreal. She felt more alien than
anything or anyone he had ever met, more
insubstantial and ephemeral.

She radiated desire for him, the Vulcan; Kirk's
Shadow, as the Klingons called him; Kirk's wrath,
as the Romulans had named him. It was Kirk's soul
that he wished to be. She was... enticing. She was
undeniably desirable, if not on the basis of her
beauty alone, she offered a stunning intellect.

Perhaps she would prove to be enough.

She came to stand close, almost touching him. She
knew that touch was an intimacy that few Vulcans
allowed, yet she dared to tease at it. He allowed
her interest and returned it. She allowed her
desire to flare and relished the fact that she
could interest him.

He would take her, and stroke her insides to
flames. He would trace fire done her nerves until
she screamed her rapture. She would cry his name
as she wished to do. He leaned forward slightly
and answered her questions. Why did he tell her so
much of the truth of Vulcan? What fugue state had
possessed him to make his lips spill Vulcan's
secrets, the same secrets that had killed Jim on
the red sands?

Fatigue; he had tired of all the subterfuge and
hidden codes of Vulcan life. They had only served
to keep him from the one person he truly desired
above all other things. He would practice
openness. It had worked for Jim with his lovers.
There was a chance it would work with Jim. She
would serve a purpose. Dirty, he felt slightly
dirty using her in this fashion, but she did not
wish to Bond with him, only mate with him. Did her
shallow desire to have sex with a Vulcan for the
experience cancel his shallow desire use her to
rid his mind of his Captain? They both could be
useful to the other.

Surak would bow his head at the audacity of this
solipsistic defense.

James Kirk often quoted George Patton, a famous
Earth General of the 20th century: "In war nothing
is impossible, provided you use audacity."

He decided to be audacious.

She was ready. He could smell her arousal, the
same arousal he had smelled from women before. He
had remained hungry, then. He would partake of the
meal offered him now. It was time for him to ask
her to her chambers, where they could ride the
wild-winds of pleasure. He would let her taste of
Vulcan and understand, at last, why unbonded
males were allowed off-world so infrequently.
Perhaps she could help him release his soul from
the bondage he had placed it in. She could free
him of Kirk's brand.

Truth. . .she would not be enough.

It would only be a beginning.

Wait, listen, what did she say? Kroykah.
Statements of weakness and blind prejudice that he
could not bear. He could not lie with someone who
thought in this manner. He knew he could not share
his mind, or his body, with such pollution. It was
not to be. Kaadith.

He watched her leave in confusion, then he turned
to walk back into the room where his soul slept.
They should speak of the things that raged in his
heart. He needed to know if a life of happiness
would ever be possible. He had waited long enough
to broach the subject. Today, he would see his
heart shatter from knowledge or fill with joy. It
was not the place he would have chosen for this
particular confrontation, but the waiting was
making him foolish. To think he had almost
succumbed to such as Droxine, when all he had ever
wanted lay in the next room.

Kirk stood, muscle tensed to attack, fully awake
and holding a woman, who in turn held a knife.
Even asleep, James Kirk had found danger. The
woman was dressed as one of the faceless drones of
the cloud city, the same that mined below in the
caverns. His Captain sent him a smile of welcome
even as he joined the human in disarming the
attacker. He could feel the joyful energy radiate
from his Captain as he put his talents to solving
a new puzzle. Spock sensed Kirk held no real anger
toward the woman who had tried to kill him as he
slept, only curiosity and a fierce need to solve
the dilemma.

Who would solve Spock's own?

They would put their problems on hold, yet again,
because duty took precedence over their own
personal tale. In this regard, Kirk was very
similar to a Vulcan. His Captain was safe, he
thought, at least he was safe from the woman with
the knife. The true question was, was he safe from
the Vulcan in need? She had only threatened to
kill him. He, Spock, had succeeded in doing so
once already. If they stayed together, unbonded,
it would be a permanent death one day for them
both. Even Kirk's sexuality would not be able to
resist the call of the Vulcan bond, Spock had
realized that long ago. If the Human did not come
willingly to him, they would both die in the
flames of Pon Farr.

Spock almost sighed. Kirk would never surrender.
Therefore their death was inevitable. Perhaps they
would meet again on the other side of existence,
where gender did not matter, and the bond no
longer called him to his death.

Heya, pay attention. Your Captain requires your
assistance.