Disclaimer: I am neither lucky, powerful, rich, or influential enough to own Star Trek. If I did I certainly wouldn't be sitting around fantasying about it. (Ha! Who am I kidding, I still would!) But regardless, everything and everyone belongs to their respective studio's, corporations, and companies. (God damnit!) And thus, I own nothing but my rabid plot bunnies and hopeless dreams, thank you very much!

Authors Note #1: While I am in the middle of writing four or five different stories at the moment this one was simply demanding to be told, resorting to even haunting my dreams in order to do so. Sometimes having an overactive imagination bites!

Authors Note #2: Unlike in a Zoo, please feel free to feed the author! Your reviews not only give me a warm fuzzy feeling inside, but they also help me improve myself. So yes, please read and review.

Illogically in Love

Chapter Eight - "You know I feel it in my bones and I wear it on my skin...But there is no use in right or wrong...When a heart must go where it belongs..."

The walk down the corridors continued in near silence, something that while familiar to him, suddenly felt distinctly uncomfortable when shared with the uncommonly silent woman at his side. He had expected her to break into questions, or even start an argument when they had rematerialized back aboard the Enterprise, but instead she had stayed mute, her heels clicking crisply on the metallic floors as she led the way to her rooms, seemingly out to make a point that their conversation would be held on her own grounds, in a space where she, and notably not he, was familiar with.

And as this thought occurred to him, he experienced a thrill of discomfort as he pondered whether their conversation would turn from explanations and apologies to anger and confrontation instead. 'Women of any species were strangely hard to read' He realized sagely, pondering on this matter not for the first time that day.

He kept her steady pace easily, forgoing his usual sedate walk to match her stride but making a deliberate point not to outpace her, letting her control their gait as he remained half a step behind, unwilling to make any further moves until he had ascertained her state of mind.

However, despite this he kept close to her side, his presence far too close and intimate to be thought as entirely appropriate, but regardless he remained where he was, letting her absorb this new development as he continued his closeness, hoping that it would lend towards the sincerity of his feelings... as he knew she would find them difficult to believe after all these years of disappointment and unrequited love.

They arrived quickly at her doors, with the woman at his side smacking the entrance button with near frightful force, barely waiting for the doors to completely open before striding determinedly inside, deliberately not looking at him until she had taken a turn of the room and put half the measure of the space between them.

If he had been any less a Vulcan he was sure these actions would have elicited an uncomfortable clearing of his throat, or lent a restless nature to his limbs, however he was able to contain his discomfort and collect his thoughts, attempting to put her stony expression out of mind for the task ahead.

She made no move to speak, her hands raising to rest on her hips as she clearly awaited his promised explanations, frustration, anger, and confusion ripe across her features. It seemed that there was nothing left to do but to explain himself.

"Miss Chapel...Christine.." He began, amending himself almost immediately, as he advanced forward a step as he spoke, attempting to broach the divide between them in more ways then one.

"As I mentioned earlier, I owe you an apology for my rather blunt and incordial behaviour earlier today towards your...acquaintance...Mr. Commings." He continued, watching her face closely for a hint of her feelings, but finding depressingly little to go on before he continued.

"However, it is my duty as your superior officer, and I hope, as your friends that I express my own concern over your behaviour. I do not think it is wise that you act so informally with such a man, one in which none of your friends and companions have neither heard of nor seen. And whose character can only be described as questionable, and his intentions towards you seen as all to clear. My concern is of course towards your countenance in this matter." He finished abruptly.

The moment the words slipped from his lips he experienced the strange emotion of regret, realizing that somehow, he had already managed to err in this matter. Perhaps he should have taken another route in beginning to broach his own feelings towards her?

In fact, he believed he had began the conversation so wrongly that he could almost picture the Doctors reaction, straight down from his facial expression to the choice words that would no doubt slip from his lips as he took him to task for his very Vulcan-like error, and indeed, possibly an error on the part of his masculinity as well. At the moment it was hard to distinguish between the two.

Her face went from an alarming shade of near-pale, to a stunning red that coloured her high cheekbones, mirrors to her rage as she sucked in a breath of air in a high pitched hiss.

"How dare you." She returned, her hands clenched into tight fists at her sides, her small hands nearly swallowed by the voluminous folds of her captivating dress.

Words failed him in face of her passionate emotions, and the strength of her anger and hurt. He could think of nothing to sooth neither her nor the situation he had placed himself in, his apologies suddenly ringing as inadequate in his mind as he observed her readying herself to address him.

However, she did not shrink back from him or demand he leave, instead she advanced, coming at him with anger blazing into blue fires in her eyes, one hand upraised as she gestured at him violently.

And even so, in spite of the situation before him, some small, and very human-like part of him noted that this, this was the true Christine Chapel, a woman who backed down from no one, least of all him. And a woman too, that was her own, being strong, capable, breathtaking even in her natural state, and utterly exotically beautiful in the height of her anger.

"Jethro lives on Earth! with his husband Scott, of five years!" She blasted back at him, throwing down her small purse as she took another step towards him, seeming not even to notice when he took an unconscious half-step backwards, her cheeks flushed a heightened shade of crimson in her ire, the color matching her hot blooded, and justified temper.

"But no! I am sure I will jump him the moment he is looking the other way!" She continued hotly, sarcasm dripping from her lips as thick as molasses as she let it all out, ignoring his attempts to speak entirely and talking right over him.

He wasn't exactly sure when control over the conversation had gotten away from him, but away it had. Possibly even the very moment he had opened his mouth to speak? And now she gave him no quarter, still advancing upon him as from her lips fell the heavy truths he had so blatantly missed.

How could he have been so blind? The affections Mr. Commings showed for Christine were not that of a lover, or a suitor, but of a long and fast friend.. One with no romantic designs on her, nor it seemed any other woman in the universe either. How could such an observation have missed him? How had he misunderstood something so obvious?

"You just don't get it do you Spock? You never did. It had always been you! Christ, even after all this time...after everything, it is still you. God help me, but I am a fool." She continued on, her voice lowering slightly as she finished the sentence, her eyes shimmering slightly with the beginnings of a few traitorous tears. The sight alone nearly incapacitating him completely. But instead she shook her head vehemently, blinking back her emotion and facing him again, taking him to task for his foolery and harm done onto her, the reprove years overdue.

And now that she had started on him, the words simply began spilling out of her; accusations, demands, questions...They were all righteous and yet entirely ill timed to what he wished to resolve. And it was all directed at him, coming with such muster and resolve that he began to fear that she wasn't going to stop.

Thus he did what any Vulcan would do, analyze the situation and come to the most logical conclusion, indeed the only logical thing he had left to him. This time, unlike so many times in the past with this wondrous human woman, his logic saved him. Because after all, if the problem lay in making his feeling known, being given the appropriate time to voice them, and the woman in question being too caught up in her own conversation to hear it, her lips forming the words of her righteous speech in emotional abandon, well, the only logical conclusion was of course...to silence them.

And therefore, that was the moment he leaned forward, one hand capturing her chin, and the other coming to up to briefly caress her cheek, taking no heed of her stunned, agape expression, that he kissed Christine Chapel.

It was an unprecedented moment in his life, aside from those times he had been unconscious and thus in that sense incapacitated, but from the moment their lips met all his methods of measuring time vanished, leaving him lost to the moments that past them by, leaving him to wonder if time itself had actually slowed and the fabric of the very universe torn asunder all around them as explosions of color burst behind his eyes.

He felt her consciousness slip into him with barely a ripple of harsh delivery, and he opened his mind to her, embracing her consciousness with his, cradling it within himself as he soothed her fears, her past hurts and confusion. She slid into his embrace as if the spot in his mind she now occupied had been perfectly made for her, as if she had always meant to be there. His hearts mate..

And in this, he could contain himself no longer, needing her to understand, needing her to know! And so he showed her in the ancient way of his people, exactly how true and deep his feelings for her ran. Telling her in a way he could not voice on the outside, how very much he loved her, desired her, and needed her.

She wrapped around him in a cord of brilliant blue, the winking sapphire color that marked her consciousness within his own. She melded in with him without any difficultly or strain, the bond between them so deep that their differing race and biology seemed meaningless and unimportant. And while timid and soft, despite all they had been through, she directed her own feeling towards him through the fledging bond..emersing his consciousness in a tidal wave of tranquil blue, warm with the all the passion and love for him that only a human could so rightly express.

And yet, it seemed as though the kiss had only just begun when she suddenly pulled back, breaking the kiss but making no move to disentangle herself from his embrace. Instead she caught his eyes, her expression soft, surprised, warm, and elated, with the growing spark of hope daring to flush across her features...

But despite this her eyes remained steady and strong, broaching him no reprieve and giving him the impression that despite their internal admissions, she needed more concrete proof of his feelings, something more then what had ready been 'said'. Perhaps it was the human in her.

"Did you mean it? ....I mean really?" She asked, after an endless pause, recovering from the mental link as she spoke, her voice breathless as she looked up at him, her eyes searching his face with such intensity...as if she expected to find the answers there upon his skin.

He paused before answering, reordering his admittedly scattered thoughts as he gathered up both her hands in his own and brought them to his lips as he kissed each one before returning her gaze.

"More then anything in my life.. Christine, yes." He replied simply, his voice quiet and nearly a whisper.

He was about to say more when Christine silenced him just as effectively as he had done to her scant minutes ago. Throwing herself unrestrainedly into his arms with a wordless happy cry, and sealing her lips around his in a passionate, and indeed thorough kiss, sending them both reeling towards the wall as he returned it, his passion equal to her own as he braced them up against the wall and set about describing his feelings towards her in an entirely….different manner.....

...Sometime the next morning...

He regained awareness the next morning amidst a slow haze of sensation. His limbs slid and caught on the soft, silk-like sheets, tangling around his limbs much like the the soft, human-warm flesh the lay wrapped intimately around him, her small, soft breaths ghosting intimately against the curve of his shoulder as she slept on.

He breathed in the scent with unashamed pleasure, letting his senses slowly catalogue the virtual melding pot of sensation around him. He luxuriated first in the mingling of their scents, in a room ripe with Christine's presence at every turn, he found now that his too had begun to permeate the spacious quarters.

Her brownish-blond hair curled every which way across the pillows, mussed up into small fly-away tufts around her face, the brownish strands even straying as far as to flow over his own skin, ghosting across his arm and collarbone.

And as he looked down at her something inexplicable tightened in his chest, realizing at that very same moment that sometime during the night one of her arms had some up to rest over the span of his chest, as if even in her sleep she had been at loath to leave him. And it appeared that unconsciously his mind had thought the same, with one of his arms hung loosely around the curve of her hip.

Musing on the general nature of his apparently somewhat sensual unconscious mind, he let his hand move softly across the plane of her hip and thigh, admiring the strong softness of her flesh under his hand. Unable to contain his admiration as it ran upwards, curving across her waist to stroke a breast, and the hollow of her throat before resting on her plush lips and cheek, her soft, even breaths tantalizing his sensitive fingers as she slept on, unaware of his admiration and blatant emotional display.

As his fingers came to play in her hair, softly running through her thick brownish locks, she stirred slightly beside him, her skin sleep-warm as she shifted around him. She made soft sleepy sounds that sizzled through his body like fire, alighting his skin as she snuggled in closer, resting her chin on the curve of his shoulder as she opened an eye, still mostly asleep as she looked at him.

"Spock..." She murmured softly, her voice mussed and deep with sleep as she nearly climbed atop him in her search to move closer to him. He pulled her up until she was half draped over him, a pleased hum, barely discernable, to even himself, escaping his lips as he relished in the contact.

Her mind-voice was faint, but their connection remained still uncommonly strong despite her half-awake state. He received a slow trickle of blurred images and colors, all made rich with her happiness and satisfaction.

"I am here, sleep now T'hy'la.." He sent to her through the bond, only slightly surprised as before she drifted off, whether unconsciously or not, her mind sent to him a rather vivid and suggestive picture of their lovemaking from not few hours previous...leaving the image to course through his consciousness as she returned to her rest, her breath now sliding along the plain that led tantalizingly close to his navel.. Had she done that deliberately?

However, in all seriousness, the lesson here was clear...coming to him as more simple and consequencal then he had ever imagined such thing as this could be.... Perhaps he was much more human then he had originally though. And indeed, perhaps the humanity that dwelled within him was just as resilient and bold as in his pure human companions, and had just bided its time within his mind until he had needed it the most, coming to him as strong and as determined as his more disciplined and dominant Vulcan half.

The human part that dwelled within him, while troublesome and erratic, seemed as though it had its purpose, and for the first time in his life, he not only understood the full meaning of this strange and foreign gift, but he was appreciative for his humanity as well...His mother would have been proud....

A/N: I want to thank everyone who has been following this story! It is now completed. I must say it definitely continued on for far longer then I ever anticipated, however I suppose that that is the very nature of stories, you never know where the next rabid plot bunny will take you! It is rather similar to riding a very crazed and steroid overdosed bull bareback!

*So, long memo made short, I appreciated each and everyone of your reviews and pms. You guys have been great!

A/N: Did you like this story? Review and let me know! As always, thanks for the reviews! I would also like to do a shout out to those of you who are reviewing anonymously; I would thank you personally if I could! They have all not only been insightful but encouraging as well!

A/N: My chapter title is from Thriving Ivory's: "Twilight". I decided to take a break from John Barrowman and return to my 'Thriving Ivory' roots for the last chapter of this story.