I saw your eyes...
I saw your need...
So I come... to serve...
I open my eyes as I hear steps enter the adjoining room. You return earlier than I expected. But this is of no consequence to me. You are here. Eventually.
I listen to your steps moving to the desk. Silence follows. I imagine the curiosity and surprise in your eyes as you see the letter I left there earlier this evening.
I picture your hands taking the single sheet of paper from the orderly surface of the desk. Curiosity and surprise slowly replaced by... what? Hopefully not pity. I would even prefer anger.
I could not bear it if you would feel pity for me. Not now, ever. Not after all this years we moved towards this moment in our life.
There - steps again, moving fast to the door of the bathroom, joining this room to the one I wait in for you.
You come to me. You - will be here shortly. My heartbeat increases and drums in my ears. This is not like me... but than I abandoned my usual self tonight.
I listen to the soft sound of the door sliding open. I sense you standing there on the threshold. And dare not to look into your direction.
"There was a letter on my desk." Your voice breaks the heavy silence. "A letter you wrote." Not a question - a statement.
I nod, close my eyes, as you leave the threshold to approach me.
"Why didn't you tell me earlier?"
"I feared your reaction." My voice sounds strange, even in my own ears.
"If this would not be easier if you'd open your eyes?"
There is a ring of laughter in your words and I wince. I pray you do not think this is a joke... A shudder runs through my body and I stiffen involuntarily.
"No, love. Easy..."
"I'm not laughing at you."
Your hand on my shoulder an I almost wish I could curl myself around your touch...
"Didn't you know I waited for so long? Too long to make fun of this moment, of your feelings for me. Please - open your eyes and look at me."
I can not resist your words more than I could stop breathing.
Your eyes so loving. Your face only inches away. Your soft lips glinting in the dim light, smiling at me. Your cool breath kisses my skin...
I lift my hand and dare to touch you. My fingers slowly drifting down your cheek and I revel in the smooth felling of your skin. And hear myself whisper softly, repeating the words I wrote into the letter "I love you, Jim"...
* * *
Suddenly the face hovering over his becomes blurred. He tries to reach for the fantasy but it slips through his fingers like the sands of his home world. And reality invades this little space of peace he has made inside his bruised heart, where the memory of the man he loves is still living...
Spock opens his eyes to look down onto the tiny piece of paper, crumpled in his fist. A letter never send. A fantasy only, which will never come true...
Tomorrow he will tender his resignation to Starfleet.
Earth, two months later
It is late into night as he leaves the lift and slowly takes the few steps to his apartment. By touching the sensor plate next to the door, he opens the entrance and steps into the flat.
Without bothering to lighten the rooms he goes straight to his bedroom, trailing his clothes on the floor. He is too tired to care for order right now; he can tidy up things in the morning.
He yawns and crawls naked beneath the sheets. And impacts with another body and hot skin.
Two things happen almost at the same time - he is out of the bed in a swift motion and instinctively takes a defensive posture - and the lights go on.
A young, sleepy woman works her way out of tangled sheets and pillows to stretch her body leisurely. "Hi Dad," she says, tossing her long, dark curls back to reveal pointed ears. "You are late."
"Who the hell are you?" Jim Kirk gazes flabbergasted at the smiling woman. "What are you doing in my bed?" 'Why did she call me Dad'?
"This should be obvious, I have waited for your return. Sorry - I really did not intend to fall asleep in your bed." She moves to sit up.
Surely he didn't drink this much to imagine such a thing, did he? Jim starts as she walks by, all grace and long elegant limbs, clad only in a short, sleeveless dress, barely covering her knees.
"Stop!" He grabs her wrist, holding her back. "Who are you?" Jim repeats.
She smiles at him. "I am Danielle. Your daughter."
* * *
Ten minutes later Jim is again wearing his clothes. He is seated at the kitchen table and Danielle provides him with a steaming cup of coffee.
"Thanks," he says somewhat subdued. "Won't you stop this comedy and tell me who you are and what you want from me?"
She takes the seat vis-á-vis to his. "I am Danielle," she repeats. "I am the daughter you and your bondmate created."
Bondmate? "I have no bondmate," Jim answers brittle. "And I surely have no daughter."
Danielle utters a little sigh. "Well, of course not now. I am not yet born at this time."
"So you're telling me you're from the future, aren't you?" Jim says dryly.
"Indeed I am."
Jim almost chokes at his coffee. "Who are you?" he asks curtly.
She arcs questionly a slanted brow upwards in a painful familiar way. "I am your daughter."
Jim puts down his cup, spreading his hands in an eloquent gesture. "Okay, let's pretend - and I don't say I believe you - you are my daughter. Who is your mother then?"
"I have no mother."
"So you're slipped out of an egg, like a chick?" Scorn is evident in his voice.
"No. After my procreation happened through the use of recombined DNA I was raised in an artificial womb because both of my parents are male." Danielle crosses her arms in front of her chest, tossing her long curls back.
"Male? But you said you are my daughter? So I will be married to a male in future?" Jim still does not believe her.
"Not only married, but also bonded in the Vulcan way."
Red floods Jims face. "Are you implying, that I and..."
"You and Spock are bonded and are my parents," Danielle ends his sentence smoothly. "In the future of course. I will be born in approximately two years, almost one year after your bonding."
Jim's laughter sounds false - even in his own ears. "Funny little story you've made up. But it's just that - a story." Spock and he...
Danielle sighs. "I should have expected your disbelief. Ah, and I thought Spock would be hard to convince," she mutters in mock seriousness. "Do you want to see my birth certificate? The record that shows your admission into Spock's Clan and Sarek's approval of his grandchild? Or pictures from my childhood? My medical files? You'll find everything you need on this tape." With these words, she takes a tape out of a hidden pocket.
Jim shows no intention to reach for it. "Records can be faked. They prove nothing," he states.
She meets his gaze calmly. "You could ask Spock to perform a mindmeld with me to verify my words."
"Spock?" Jim stifles again a surge of bitter laughter. "He's on Vulcan."
"Vulcan? Shit!" Danielle gets up and starts to pace the kitchen.
Now its Jim's turn to lift an eyebrow.
She shrugs, smiles. "I know," she says. "You told me a thousand times not to use it, but it seemed appropriate. How long is Father on Vulcan? Maybe I am not too late."
Jim winces as she calls Spock Father. "Two months," he answers curtly. "He tendered his resignation as soon as we entered Earth's orbit."
Danielle sighs a breath of relief. "So I am still in time to prevent your break-up."
"Break-up? Spock and I weren't married for heavens sake!"
"But you were lovers." Danielle stops her pacing to gaze at him.
She sits down heavily. "What?" she murmurs. "I... I do not understand. You - my parents - always told me you fell in love with each other the first time you met."
"Spock is my friend, not my lover," Jim answers gently after some time, feeling her dismay. "I'm sorry, Danielle. I don't understand - but I'm sorry."
She closes her eyes. "For years I longed to hear you calling me again," she says. "Since your disappearance..."
Danielle blinks slowly. "But you do love Spock, don't you?" she asks without answering his question.
Jim opens his mouth to deny her words - and closes it without uttering a single syllable.
"Do you?" Danielle leans across the table, her hand reaching for his. "Please, tell me as much."
Her warmer-than-human fingers close around his and Jim feels something strange creeping up his arm... he tears his hand away. "What are you doing?"
"We have - we will have - a parental link. I instinctly tried to establish contact, like I'm used to do," Danielle states flat. "I am sorry - I meant no insult."
"Okay," Jim spreads his hands in a gesture of understanding. "None taken. I was just... surprised."
He gets up and crosses the room to stand at the window, his back turned to the still sitting woman. "Spock and I... were close in the past. I even thought we could be more than friends one day. But he... he chose to run away from me."
"Did you ever tell him you love him?" Danielle asks softly.
Jim shrugs. "Maybe I was too afraid to lose what we already shared. Maybe I was too afraid of his reaction." A hesitant touch on his shoulder causes him to turn around to face Danielle.
"But Spock too loves you, Dad," she says. "But he is maybe as much afraid as you."
"Danielle..." Pain clouds her dark eyes. Jim meets her gaze. "Who are you to know this much?"
"I have already told you - I am the daughter of James Kirk and Spock."
He turns away from the conviction in her eyes, her words. "It's hard to believe," he says. "How did you manage to travel back in time?"
"You know I cannot tell you." A ring of amusement sounds in Danielle's voices. "I am here. Is that not enough for the moment?"
"But why are you here?"
"After your disappearance Father told me, he regretted one thing in his live - the time he spent in Gol, trying to sever the link between you. He was afraid of your reaction should you learn about its existence. To be linked in this way to an unsuspecting non-telepath is considered a very serious crime on Vulcan. I came back to prevent him from leaving you for Gol. I know now it was insanity to try such a thing. I could have changed everything - the whole future."
"Spock and I share a link?" Jim asks, leaving the rest of her words for later consideration.
"Yes, you do. Repeated melds formed a link between you. I can show it to you if you like."
Jim turns to face her. He is nervously licking his lips. "Show me."
Her fingers touch his skin...
* * *
"I am sorry, Dad," she whispers as she gently lowers Jim's unconscious body to the floor. "But I have to remove your memories of my stay, of my existence. I want you to be happy with Spock. Please be happy with him. I have brought his letter with me. The one you never got. I took it from Spock, I hope he will one day understand why." She brushes her fingers in a silent goodbye over his cheek.
Earth, the morning after...
There is a rapidly fading pain behind his eyes as he wakes up, his mouth feels dray, his neck sore. Slowly Jim comes to his feet. Why did he sleep on the kitchen floor? Surely he didn't drink this much last night, did he?
A single sheet of paper, laying on the surface of the table catches his attention. He takes the letter. "I love you, Jim." It is Spock's handwriting. A letter from Spock? Where does it come from? "Why didn't you tell me?" he whispers. "Why did you run to Vulcan instead?"
Jim crosses the room to gaze out of the window. "Maybe it's not too late..." he murmurs. He looks at the letter again. He could catch one of the regular shuttles to Vulcan and go to Gol to claim his... mate.
Slowly Jim folds the letter, puts it into the pocket of his trouser. He had some serious planning to do...