There are times when Spock has to concede that humans must have a kind of inborn strength of character superior even to Vulcans. In this moment, for instance, sitting in one of the pleasant parks dotted around the grounds of Starfleet command, when the golden light of San Francisco sunrise is playing across the captain’s face and glinting in the errant strands of his hair. If Spock feels his resolve tested in such a setting, if it takes no little effort to keep himself from reaching out, from touching, he can only imagine how the humans in his presence must feel, and marvel at all of those who interact with James T Kirk as though he can come and go from their lives and leave them no more affected by his absence than his presence.

The captain draws his eyes in from the bay at last, focusing on Spock’s face as his own is transformed by a small, amused smile; the lines around his eyes that have grown more pronounced in the past years in no way detract from their unerring blue. “Well, Spock? What do you think?”

“Captain — Jim,” he corrects himself when he sees the protest in his captain’s eyes, “You’ve asked me to be honest about my feelings in the matter and while you know that I never stray from the path of truth you also know better than most that expressing my experiences in emotional terms can be unsettling. However, as you have asked, I will make the attempt. I must admit that I would find it...difficult, to adjust to life aboard the Enterprise with a different captain, however, I hardly feel that my own difficulties should affect your decision and find myself thinking instead of yours. This promotion is a great honor, and would doubtless present you with new challenges and opportunities to develop your already considerable skill set. However...knowing you as well as I do, I must pose the question...would it make you happy? I find it...curiously distressing, Jim, to envision you setting off on a new course that may not bring you happiness commensurate to what you would be leaving behind on Enterprise.”