drabble</title</head> <body> <div align=center> <img src="wrathofkiss.jpg" width=230 height=174> <I><h2>The Vulcan Cloak</h2> K/S drabble by Farfalla<P></I> </div><blockquote> Barking commands, because that makes it easier to ignore my hunger to weep, I give the orders about Spock's burial garments. My junior officers gently point out that his body is too contaminated to handle. I snarl back that they must respect the burial rites and customs of other cultures and don radiation suits, in respect to Spock's heritage. <P> I shout to keep myself from realizing it's all a lie--that I need him in those robes because they were his clothing the last time I kissed him. If he spends eternity in those robes, that encounter need never end. <P><div align=center><a href="stories.html">stories</A> on <a href="index.html">thyla.com