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It had been the fourth time they transported his other… the Ambassador this year.
Spock had been on duty on the bridge as the message and the orders to fly to New Vulcan came in. Spock had looked over to Nyota. Her slender body looked graceful on her seat as she had worked over Klingon messages. He had been as drawn to her as he had always been.
Spock had looked over to the Captain. He had been slouching in his chair but the seemingly relaxed position had been betrayed by the quick beat his fingers and foot had danced on their nearest surfaces. Anticipation. The Captain had been wired by anticipation.
Spock had felt his guts tightening with vile emotion and suppressed them. It was illogical to feel jealousy about yourself. He had convinced himself that he ignored it.
He hadn't. But he had tried.
+++
Jim Kirk's laughter was pure bright sensation to him. A sun that, for the moments it existed, captured his entire attention.
Her throaty chuckles were a fire in a hearth. Cherished and treasured and, oh, so warm, but…
+++
She had been a beacon to him when he'd met her for the first time. Not in his classes, as his student, but on campus. She had walked side by side with an Orion cadet, on their way to a dormitory perhaps, and next to the enthusiastic green-skinned woman she had been a pillar of self-restraint – clearly amused and attentive to her companion, but her smile had only been in her eyes. She had reminded him of home so much his knees threatened to give.
He had hated him when he put all his attention on him the first time, a fierce burning inside of him that had made him seek revenge. He'd been cheated, he'd been bested. He had needed to control himself more than he had needed to in all his years on Earth put together. His entire being had been shaking.
+++
The Ambassador and Kirk fit. To Spock it seemed like everybody should notice that fact, but no one truly did. Maybe McCoy did. Or Nyota.
Nyota probably did.
He watched them as they stood together, spoke together, competed against each other on the chess boards. They fit.
They way they moved around each other, the distance always the same and so very close at that – closer than he stood when he dealt with Kirk. With his Captain.
They fit together.
He did not know how to process these observations. He did not dare to. He felt unfit to do so.
+++
They touched.
Hand on arm. Hand on hand. Hand to back.
Fingers to-
+++
When on board the Enterprise the Ambassador was on the bridge at least once each visit. At least once.
For all his years of lifetime on all of them, he did not look out of place. If anything he looked more comfortable on the bridge next to the Captain than any of Kirk's crew did. It was unsettling.
The Ambassador's stays on the bridge were never long.
On the last one Spock had listened to his older self and the Captain. They had spoken in low voices.
("Jim. It is not my place. Not anymore. Perhaps it never was – here. It's his."
"Ah, c'mon… Spock wouldn't mind."
"He would. I would have. Trust me on that, old friend."
Kirk's eyes were bright with fire when he looked at the Ambassador, a child-like fire, fun burned in him. The emotion echoed in the Ambassador's eyes, even as he reprimanded Kirk. His eyes. Spock had to look away.
"Besides, you …know what I'm used to work with. This ship, while it will always be home to me, belongs in my past."
"Especially the tech," Kirk had agreed, "It is weird to know her limits. To know what will be possible – but never for her."
"Mister Scott is working on it." There had been clearly audible humor in the Ambassador's voice, it had seemed very …alien to Spock. Kirk had snorted his humor and agreement, then they had been in the turbolift and on their way elsewhere.)
+++
This conversation stayed with him. For days.
He thought of technology and the advances research brings with time. Thought about upgrades. About rehauls. About inferiority.
The Captain regarded him as his friend. His older self was clearly more than that to him.
Spock thought about limits.
+++
The word was never spoken. It nevertheless was present whenever James Kirk and the Spock that travelled time and dimensions were in contact.
Spock now could detect the bond the word stood for in echoes of telepathic waves when he was close to them together. Any adult Vulcan would be able to. It was a strong, sacred bond.
Spock did not feel any sensation of emptiness when he came in contact with their bond - he had Nyota now nestled there in his being. She was his bonded, she had burned with him. She carried their daughter underneath her heart.
He had chosen her as his time had come. Without hesitation. They would live their lives together.
Spock had learned that in this universe, in this time, his wife was all and everything he wanted. She was not second best to him as he had feared she might be.
Once, in a different time, she had been, to the Ambassador she had been. He had chosen differently, had lived a different live that formed him to need James Kirk. Spock could not fully understand this choice, just as he knew the Ambassador would never fully understand his.
Kaiidth.
+++
His older self had decades to live yet, Kirk – his friend, his captain, Jim – would outlive him, yes, but for a mere ten to twenty years. They would not remain child-less either, which was something he now would not wish on his dearest enemy, never mind on his friends. Or rather, his family, in a way, as the bridge crew surely was a family now after all these years. The Ambassador fostered orphan children already and Spock knew that it would not take Jim long to have any child call him father if he set his mind to it.
Spock knew he would.
He knew his friend.
