Title:
Firepot
Author:
Shoshana
Pairing:
S/Mc
Summary: Spock’s
firepot sees far into the future
(up to and including the boys’ eventual deaths).
This fic ignores the events of STXI.
Rating:
G
Disclaimer:
I do not own Star Trek. Not a molecule, atom,
quark or vibrating string of it.
Foolish Vulcan. Once again you have lit the incense within me. Straight and
quiet you sit before me, composing your
body, calming your mind. Emptying
it of thought and of emotion, in an effort
to escape the nettlesome swarm of
illogical thoughts sent you by the humans
with whom you serve. To leave
behind, temporarily, the human self which
threatens to overwhelm you. But
most of all, to escape thoughts of him. The irritable and irritating human who
frustrates and fascinates you, the
one with the intense blue eyes.
I’ve seen him here in this room,
though rarely. He feels the attraction, too,
and like you, he resists it. And so the two of you will continue your verbal
dance of jabs and jibes, until for a time
you both return to the worlds on which
you were born, not admitting that your
true home is with each other.
But in the end, you will capture each other,
surrendering to yourselves,
and to love. In an hour of peril and sacrifice, it will be to him you turn, to
make him, unknowingly, the vessel of your
essence. In the rebirth that
follows that crucible, the two of you will
finally come together, eventually
to bond and marry. You will spend together, in contentment, though seldom
in peace, the second half of his life,
and the middle third of yours.
And one day, more than a century and a
half from now, an aged woman
named Saavik will take a lock of hair from
a man long dead, and a lock of hair
from a man recently dead; and in a private
ritual agreed upon many years
before, she will set them aflame within
me; and when they have burned, she
will collect the tiny pile of ash, and
will make pilgrimage to the birthworlds of
those two men, to scatter that ash on thick
red clay and red desert sand. And
she will recite words chosen long before,
phrases lifted from ancient rituals
of two worlds: “Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Spock and Leonard, forever
parted, now never parted.” And then, mourning you both, she will give you
up, to alien sun and native land, and to
your planets’ winds.