1859

 

Spock opened his eyes, the bed next to him rapidly losing warmth. A flicker of displeasure ran across his face. Just beyond the line of his sight, he could hear Leonard moving. As a dark shape passed close by him, he struck. His hand grasping around his departing lovers wrist. "Leonard."

 

"I gotta go, Spock. Well be putting into space dock soon. You know what that means."

 

"Yes." Spock applied slight pressure, pulling his soul mate closer. Staring into the bright spots that were his lovers eyes, he brushed his lips over those warm human ones. Eyes falling closed, he lost himself in the autumn leaves and spice taste of the doctor. "I cherish thee, I will find thee, I remain in thy soul."

 

McCoy wrapped his arms around his love, head resting on the thin shoulder. "I will wait for thee." A few minutes later he stood up and walked out.

 

Spock turned to face the porthole. He could see the space dock approaching. Sighing, he sat up.

 

1907