Disclaimer: I'm not awesome enough to own these guys.
Title is from Latin, the translation is: 'To the late are left the bones' (which I swear is not a Mccoy reference)
The Captain has a peculiar fondness for apples. When questioned about it, he makes vague comments about the Human sense of taste and his preferences thereof.
(Because I like them, Spock.)
But later, on the observation deck he'd related the old Terran religious tale of Adam and Eve. You are half mesmerized by his storytelling (and his consumption of the fruit in reference, red flesh white meat juice on his fingers.)
"So you see," he says, turning the orb over in blunt fingers, "it's the symbolism of the thing. All at once, this simple fruit is both representative of the forbidden, of all the knowledge and temptation of humanity incarnate. It is also," here he pauses to take another bite "Original sin, the moment when paradise was denied to us. I find the concepts involved… intriguing, to say the least." (The shine of the nectar on his lips does not draw your attention, even momentarily.)
He affects a lazy pirate smile and flicks the core in a graceful arc to the waste receptacle. He does not miss.
It takes you some time to give name to the phenomenon surrounding you.
You are Vulcan. (Proud, strong, controlled) You are a scientist. While your human half may offer unique (intuitive emotional unsubstantiated) perspective on most interpersonal relationships, you have a long history of deferring emotional response in favor of quantifiable observations.
(Lately you have begun to foster these more-human instincts. It pleases Uhura, and it satisfies you to offer something to the memory of your human mother. Your deciding moment was a conversation with the Captain on the subject, in fact. "It would be… illogical to ignore these responses in yourself any longer." He had said, almost idly. "You are what you are, are you not?")
Regardless, you do notice eventually. (Not soon enough though, no no no)
Nyota is a good woman. (Intelligent attractive talented driven committed asksforlittle) One of her more attractive (Vulcan) qualities is her low-maintenance attitude. While she makes certain demands of your free time and holds certain expectations regarding your level of commitment, she has never insisted you engage in the assorted fripperies of most conventional relationships.
Nyota is (comfortable acceptable habitual logical) a good match for you, better than you had hoped for considering your tenuous relationship with the rest of the (surviving) Vulcan population narrows your options in that direction. (Halfbreedhalfbreedhalfbreed)
Nyota and the Captain are quietly at war.
Poetic human narratives would describe the antagonism with abstract qualities and copious amounts of simile and metaphor.
A Vulcan would be forced to admit to an illogical restrained hostility between the two. You are surprised (perturbed chagrined ashamed) to concede that Uhura seems to be the one instigating the unwariness. While both hold to professionalism in the highest sense, you are dismayed to notice the subtle undercurrents of a power struggle.
Once noticed, you divert as much speculative resources as your brain has to spare towards deducing the source of the discontent. (Like a puzzle, whywhywhy?)
Over many days you gather clues, collect observations.
The answer, when it arrives, startles you right out of a deep meditation.
Nyota is a good woman.
She is also a little more possessive than you had anticipated. You know her well enough to know that she has no desire to cause outright unpleasantness; in fact she seems to harbor significant amounts of empathy for the Captain, and yet the territorial lines have been drawn. You are not completely surprised, such behavior when threatened, even without malicious intent, tends to bring some of the more resentful (base) human behaviors to the surface. (You refuse to admit that Vulcans can be guilty of this too)
You are unclear as to how your human side should feel, having become a trophy to be flaunted.
The Captain's interest in you is (confusing amazing bewildering) flattering, certainly. Like a doctor diagnosing a sickness as something being fatal, you know every sign now. You have the equations of this memorized (percentage of prolonged eye contact divided by number of time lips are licked to the power of the time you spend together alone, equals an undeniable attraction)
You wait for the Captain (Jim) to extend an offer of courtship so you may politely decline and this madness can stop.
Months pass in a holding pattern and he says nothing.
You… are confused.
And frustrated. (human emotions, not Vulcan. Half-human, therefore permissible?)
You choose Nyota. Every day, in many little ways, you choose her. (stomp on the voice that says a friendship that will define you both in ways you cannot yet realize and wonder what he knows about any of this) Nyota is your safety, someone you know and can understand, and as a couple you are an easy fit to each other. (She is a logical choice, one you are pleased with.) You could never have that with James T. Kirk. (too wild too untamed too unpredictable heart pounding blood rushing outofcontrol makes you feelfeelfeel…)
Weeks (months, years, eternities) after all this starts, the Captain (Kirk. James. Jim) reaches for your arm as you take your leave of his quarters. (chess. Only a game of chess, nothing more)
With deliberately calculated motions, you remove his hand from your arm. Your body is canted to the perfect angle; face even, eye contact steady. You have studied this (so much of Terran communication is non-verbal!) and assimilated enough into your repertoire that your message is unmistakable.
Jim (Captain) swallows and nods once, retracting his hand. He does not speak.
You do not either, and you leave quickly, before the tellingly wet shine in impossibly blue eyes becomes something more tangible.
(Again, again, again) You choose Uhura.
(Vulcans do not lie, not even to themselves.)
This is what you want
(It is it is it is it is…)
(You are what you are, are you not?)
Sequel now posted: "Brilliant, Vast, Undying"