THE PROPOSAL

Pon Farr. He so wished that he had never heard the word.

The room was dark, and nearly overwhelming with a dry heat. Like the air of Vulcan--he shivered slightly in the memory of it. A ghost memory of sand beneath his feet, the ringing of chimes, the wind that howled in the twisted rocks.

He forced himself to focus on the present. Spock was kneeling in front of a small flame shrine. A long robe was pulled around his shoulders and feet. He had worn his uniform to the planet, but here in his cabin, he took on the robe and customs of his people.

Kirk observed Spock, knowing that he was deep into the thralls of his meditation. Spock had been told that he needed to re-balance his what ever he called it after the broken Pon Farr. In theory he was still on leave, but Kirk needed to talk to him before Spock slipped back behind the cool steel mask of Vulcan stoicism. He had seen the need, the passion, the emotion on him face, when he had slipped, when he realized that his captain was still alive.

Joy at not losing a friend? No, it was more than that. The touch on his arms, the--well, you did not get to be the stud of the universe without knowing when someone wanted you.

Spock wanted him, at least now, at least for the moment. Perhaps forever.

He had almost lost Spock today; he never wanted to lose him again.

"Spock, forgive me for intruding on your meditation, but there is something that I must say, must ask, before, you complete what ever the hell you're doing to seal your self off from your emotions." Kirk paused; waiting for the response that he knew would not come.

"You'er my best friend, my closest companion, the balance to my life. I am a better person, a better captain with you as my side. Starfleet has never had a better team than us, a better ship, a better.... partnership. I can't lose you--ever. I need you, Spock. Surely you can see the logic in what I am about to say.

Kirk paused, and paced a bit back and forth, wishing that he could see the face of his first officer, but in some ways glad that he couldn't. If Spock said nothing, he could just forget this whole thing--Spock would never mention this. It would be as his people dealt with such things, forgotten as all outbreaks of emotions were, too unspeakable to deal with, ignored like bodily functions at a social engagement.

"It is only logical that you and I should... bond. That way this--this Pon Farr wouldn't be a problem, and Star Fleet wouldn't be able to separate us. I will never have to deal with the possibility of losing my first officer. "

Kirk played his trump card. "I have the human vice. I do not expect you to give me any thing that you do not feel that you can give, but I love you."

And silently Kirk sat on Spock's bed, and waited to see if his words were the beginning of something or the end. Or if his all so logical first officer would see the logic in his highly illogical captain's offer.

The fire on the altar flickered in the dark warm room. Spock did not move, but a slight sheen of sweat showed on his brow, reflecting silver in the red light of the altar fire.

Kirk waited. It went against most of his nature--he was a man of action, and the passive waiting thing was difficult for him--but so much was at stake. He had offered his heart to his best friend, his ... His mind tripped into the gaping hole the he just realized that he had opened with his declaration of... well... love. He had tried to couch the proposal in terms of logic and balance and need, but the fullness of his act hit him like a ton of tribbles. Forever.

Spock would not accept. What the hell was he thinking? He should just get up and leave, and try to forget that this had ever happened.

But this was Spock, and he wanted Spock, needed Spock. And Spock needed and wanted him. He knew it. The brief slip in Medical had shown his true nature, the raw pain and joy and passion that he so quickly covered up.

If McCoy had not been there. who knew? There had been a brief moment when it seemed that the fire in Spock's eyes flickered, only to be buried under the sands of Vulcan logic, controlling his human side.

It had been his human side that had saved him, of that much Kirk was sure, but he would never share that with Spock. Of all the indignities that he had suffered the last few days, this was one that he could spare him.

All that Kirk could do is hope and wait. The logic of the situation would be clear to him.

Time passed, minutes suspended in need and longing. It was an eternity. Just as Kirk was starting to despair, he saw a twitch in Spock's face, a micro jerk at the edge of his mouth, a prelude to speech or emerging from his trance.

Hope.

Then the sound of the emergency signal shred the fragile thread of what even was not to be forever. Damn. The ship.

The ship came first. He rushed to the bridge without a backward look at the still form of Spock, If he had, even he would not have been able to tell if one of the beads of sweat from his brow had made it way to the corner of his eye, or if it was the shedding of one saltless, near-human tear.

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