Differences.

Ambassador Spock sat on a bench under single light in a small open area; in front of him a winding path crossed the small patch of open lawn and meandered off toward the Academy. Across the path was a familiar dense grove of trees. As a cadet he had often come to this place. He rose and took the short walk that led under the tree's canopy. The tall trees towered above him; it was always deep shadow under their intermeshed branches. He continued to walk emerging into the open on a high place that overlooked the ocean. The ocean had always drawn him, he could stand and look at the slow movement of the waves and the glitter of the moonlight on the water and achieve a state close to a meditative trance. He treasured these places; the ones that were the same, they allowed him to centre himself and find some calm in this strange new universe.

It was the differences that disturbed him. Since he travelled through the black hole into this new universe that was both so similar and so different the differences had disturbed and haunted him to such an extent that he had chosen to stay away. The experience was like walking across a familiar carpet and catching your toe on something unseen, it tripped him, disoriented him. Life had felt surreal and he had wondered if this was what the onset of madness felt like; everything seeming the same at first glance but so much not quiet as it should be. It never stopped, he was repeatedly confronted by these differences. Eventually he made his life as completely as he could in places he had never visited in that other universe and limited his friendship to those he had not known before.

At first he had though a lot about the differences. Some where easy to understand. For example the difference in his life long friend James Kirk. This James Kirk grew up without his father and with all the differences in circumstances that loss had set in train. The scars that this different life had left showed in many ways. These differences were logical. Underneath he was the same man; Ambassador Spock had felt this during the mind meld they had shared. Others differences were not logical. How had the loss to the Kelvin lead to the subtle pervasive differences that constantly confronted him? For example, the old friends he saw again in this world were usually leaner and appeared more physically toned than in his universe. Why? What was it in the one event that had lead to this difference? The same with hair; why were hair styles different? The full teased stiff hair styles many women wore in his cadet days were no where to be seen. Why? Why did the Cadet Uhura he knew wear her hair short while in this universe it was a cascade like black silk down her lean back. He sighed; there it was again, it was best to stay away. He had only returned to Starfleet Academy briefly for a series of high level confidential meetings and he would return to his chosen life where he was not constantly assailed by difference.

If he was truthful a large part of why he exiled himself was Uhura. He had known her as a cadet he was her instructor as was his younger self in this universe. He had noticed her intelligence and energy as any instructor would. When they served on the Enterprise they had been friends. There was a thread of flirtation and attraction as well, but he was a half Vulcan alone in the world and in so many ways ill equipped for the world of humans and they had stayed just friends. It was his friends that stabilised and defined him, James Kirk and Dr McCoy , Sulu, Scotty and Uhura, all good friends. He had had relationships with women, both brief casual liaisons and intense and passion filled affairs that never lasted. He never wanted them to last. They were educational and he was a dedicated student and developed high level of proficiency in this field as in so many others. It was pleasurable to himself and his partner but when these relationships ended he felt no regret and moved on easily. Eventually the crew of the Enterprise dispersed through reassignment or leaving the service and Spock lost contact with Uhura.

It was not until he had left Starfleet that he met Uhura again. They were no longer young. They were both lived full and separate lives. Uhura was now highly ranked in Star Fleet and he was a Vulcan Ambassador like his father before him. They had met on Earth one winter day and his life had change irrevocably. The attraction that had always glowed between them had flared to life. He was now a confident mature man and knew about women, or so he thought. But Uhura had surprised him; he had expected lust, he had expected to enjoy her company, he had never expected to love her. In all his years he had never loved any woman, he did not think he could love and he was caught totally unaware. She was also. She had desired him as a cadet and crew mate but had accepted that this was not possible and been glad to be a friend.

Outsiders said theirs was an autumn relationship, in the fading years of their lives, it implied a relationship based on friendly companionship. They were wrong. Theirs was a passion of such intensity that it changed them both irrevocably. There had been no courtship; all those years together stood in lieu of courtship. When they met they had spent that first night together and had stayed together from then on. She had become Nyota to him that first night, his Nyota. Their age had only added heat to their relationship. Both had seen the fragility of life, both were old enough to understand that their time was limited. They had no time for the doubts and hesitancy of youth, no conflict with carer and family so they had just loved each other. How they had loved; with heart and body and mind. Spock sighed and gazed up at the stars through the shifting branches of the trees. They had bonded deeply, melded so often and with such intensity that they had become a part of one another. Spock had understood that this was beyond the normal in Vulcan bonding. They played with fire and revelled in how it burned them, searing them to the core and fusing them deeply to one another. They were always together; the link between them was an internal sun that lit his darkness and warmed his heart. When she had died in his arms in their bed an old woman, his only love, and he had felt that precious light fade and had felt true despair for the first time. Life teaches hard lessons. He thought he had felt pain before, he realised he had not, he thought he had been alone before, but he had never been so alone, he was utterly lost. Nyota had told him to love again to find a new mate to live and love in honour of her memory. He said that he would, or at least try, it was the first time in his life he had knowingly lied.

It was in the depth of his despair that he first heard her again. At first he had thought he was going mad; hallucinating. Then he decided that if madness meant he could hear her voice again so be it. In time he came to believe that it was because they had shared minds so often and so deeply that somehow traces of her remained. He knew her so well. He often felt she was with him, just in the next room. At times he felt her beside him as he slept; when he woke he was reluctant to open his eyes and confirm what he knew, that she was not there. When he was under stress or in deep meditation she would come to him, sometimes he could feel the ghost of a touch, her hand brushing his, her breath on his neck. She continued to challenge him even when she was gone. If he was being illogical in his mind he would her say with delight "That is NOT logical" and his lips would quirk. He spoke with her often in his head. These were different from the times he heard her voice as real as if she stood at his shoulder a whispered to him, words of comfort, words of challenge, always what he needed to hear. He treasured these "hallucinations" and he came to know they came at a price, each time the despair returned. He had remembered a term Scotty had used "paying the piper". It had confused him and Scotty explained it meant that for every pleasure there was a cost and eventually you had to pay the price, to pay the piper. Spock had decided, against all logic, that whatever the cost he would pay, he had no complaint.

Life had continued. He had immersed himself in work and he had been responsible for disaster.

Ambassador Spock turned back and walked back to stand under the huge old trees. As he stood beneath their canopy deep in thought he became aware that someone was on the path in front of him. He looked up. In front of him was a small open area stood his younger self. The Ambassador was amused by his own surprise, it was perfectly logical that his young counterpart would be here, hadn't he just been thinking how he had often come to this place as a younger man? The Ambassador stood completely still in the deep shadow of the trees. He was reluctant to revel himself; he found encounters with that intense familiar stranger disconcerting.

He watched the lean young man pace back and forth on the path near the light. It occurred to the old man that the Commander was not at ease, he seemed restless. Maybe he had had come here to seek peace as the elder man had often done in his universe. Then Ambassador Spock heard a crunching of gravel on the path and the figure of a young woman approached through the moonlight. Nyota. The Ambassador's breath caught in his throat. Was some cruel deity playing games with him?

"That is utterly illogical," whispered a ghostly voice. The old man closed his eyes. His Nyota.

"Of course," he thought, "you could always strip me of logic ashayam." He felt the pain in his heart as he sensed her standing just by his shoulder.

"But that is not me and he is not you," whispered the voice, laughing at him he was sure.

"A conundrum" he replied in thought.

"Indeed" there was defiantly a laugh in the whispered voice,

"You were beautiful then ashayam I must have been blind,"

"Was that regret Mr Spock?" teased the ghost voice, "how illogical. Besides I was never that young or the slender come to think of it."

He stood beneath the tree and his right shoulder tingled with awareness of her.

As he watched the Commander straightened and greeted Cadet Uhura.

"Good evening Cadet Uhura"

"Good evening Commander Spock."

Was the old man hearing things or did this young Uhura's voice hold that same teasing note as the voice of his ghostly companion?

"This is a pleasant evening for a walk commander," said Cadet Uhura.

"Indeed, "replied the Commander, "What brings you here?"

The Cadet paused and looked thoughtful, then smiled and looking down said, "My legs Sir". She flashed a cheeky grin.

"Indeed" drawled Commander Spock as he ran his eyes slowly and deliberately up the length of her long slender legs.

In the shadows the ambassador almost frowned. He was confused. The commander had moved closer to Cadet Uhura, definitely closer than human social standard would consider acceptable.

"Is there a reason your legs," a slight pause, "have brought you here this evening?" asked the Commander. He was definitely standing too close to the Cadet.

"Why yes Commander, "she replied, "I come here quiet often." Her voice dropped to a confidential whisper and she leaned closer to the Commander, "I rendezvous here with my illicit lover," she stage whispered.

The old mans eyebrows rose to his hairline. Did she say what he though she said? Was the Commander leaning closer to Cadet Uhura?

"Fascinating," said the Commander and slipped his arms around Cadet Uhura's waist and lowered his head as she slid her arms around his neck and rose on her toes. Their lips brushed lightly over each other's. The old man heard a faint sigh. The kiss deepened. Cadet Uhura hands moved to cup the Commander's face the fingers of one hand stoking the fine hairs at the nape of his neck and one on the commander's hands slid down to rest on the top of Cadet Uhura's hips.

The Ambassador struggled to breathe, he felt as he had as a child when he had been punch in the abdomen. He strove desperately for calm. He could not tear his eyes for the couple before him.

"He kisses just like you," sighed the ghost voice, "which I suppose is logical"

"Nyota," he gasped in his mind, "I remember you holding me like that. I away felt that you treasured me."

"Oh I did my Spock I did" whispered the voice and a sensation like breath brushed against his ear.

"They are so young. This can not be."

"It is not logical to deny the evidence of your own eyes adun. See, they may be young but they love,"

There was no denying this. As the old man watched the lovers they ended the kiss, both breathing hard and stood with their foreheads together. As he watched the commander raised his hand, palm flat and Cadet Uhura matched it with her now. As their palms met the both breathed deeply and closed their eyes.

"Nyota, help me" the old man found he was shaking as longing and loss surged through him, he felt the ghostly touch brushed his palm like a sigh and began to regain his control.

"Commander Spock is a quick learner," whispered the voice, "they were playing when they first met. Do you remember how long it took me to teach you to be playful my serious love?"

"I do"

"And he has learned already. He is bold this young Commander Spock and I suspect he has a dedicated teacher."

The couple had dropped they link and were standing wrapped tightly in each other's arm. Cadet Uhura head was pressed into Spock chest and he rested his check on the top of her head. As the old man watched the commander moved his head to one side placed a finger under Uhura's chin tilting her head back and kissed her, a lingering intense kiss.

"He kisses with his whole body just like you," sighed the ghost.

The Ambassador cried out in his mind, "I truly believed that as a young man I could not have loved anyone, not even you, and that it took a life time of experience to become the man who was able to love you. I see now that I was utterly wrong. Did I rob us of whole lifetime together due to blindness and insecurity?" He was having trouble breathing as the realisation of all he may have deprived himself of rose in him.

"It is not logical to speculate my Spock; you know this. He is himself you are yourself and you are not the same person," again the ghostly touch.

"You are correct," The Ambassador calmed himself, "Nyota I find myself in the unprecedented position of being jealous of …myself," replied the Ambassador.

"Did I just hear you admit to an emotion?" teased the voice.

"With you, always," he sighed.

"How we loved, my love," whispered the ghostly voice.

"Indeed" replied the old man.

The Commander Spock and Cadet Uhura had moved apart slightly and arm in arm they turned and walked slowly back down the path. As the Ambassador watched them retreat he felt the presence of his Nyota withdrawing too. He stood beneath the trees. This difference was almost more than he could bear, he would never return here. He was deeply conflicted partly he was proud of Commander Spock and he also burned with jealousy it was utterly illogical. He was also grateful. The experience of his Nyota's presence had been intensely real in that brief time. He longed for her with every cell in his body. He turned and walked down the path in the opposite direction to the lovers, to return to his solitary room and to pay the piper.