Title: Signal Noise VII. Author: Arachnethe2 Series: TOS Code: PG-13 Pairing: K/S Disclaimer: Star Trek is the property of Paramount Pictures, this is a piece of amateur fan fiction, made for no profit. Summary: Another piece into this series. This small piece I wrote in March99 never mind three blue screens, which occured, while I typed it down. It survived then my final computer crash, then greywolf's computer crash, then it got forgotten in the madness of my last project. In September T'Pat dropped me a mail, asking me, if I didn't plan to write something for this series? Grateful, I dig in my directories a bit, then send the story to T'Pat, asking for a little betta and some suggestions. T'Pat did some beta and made some suggestions, so I added some paragraphs and send it to greywolf, where it remains laying under lots and lots of emails until today. Seriously worried, what I will read at the FrisCon Story-party, I printed this piece out and brought it with to the other side of Atlantic. Then, in the hotel, Vanasati made her beta, then greywolf, finally getting it into his paws, wrote some corrections too and was very kind to read it at the party. So folks, now you have it. This year has been a very bad year for my writing. I can't promise, that this will change in the future, but still, we can hope. Enjoy! Signal Noise Part VII. Written by Arachnethe2 Face it! It's over! Easy to say, but difficult to really believe it. I'm sitting in my quarters, watching one of my favourite holovids, eating lots and lots of chocolate, sipping the second bottle of vine and I am slowly running out of tissues. On the screen Lord Saywen is pledging his undying love to Princess Raenne. I know the scene: the next moment he will arise gracefully, she will embrace him and then, wildly kissing, they will disappear in the bedroom. And then cut! And there we have another virtual happy ending - an emotional fast food for such hopeless, naive- romantic souls like me. Once it would have been enough to satisfy me. This and my work and my immaculately tidy quarters, helped me to get over my rather miserable life and the fact, that my inability to loosen myself from my feelings to a certain first officer have made me to the grateful object for the jokes on board. Of course I know about them and of course I pretend, that I don't hear them, while wearing this silly, sweet, dutiful smile and, when I'm alone, I can't stand myself exactly for that. But now it is all over. Reality hit me mercilessly. I always knew, that there will never be a chance for me. But still, after all it hurts. No, I don't want to dwell in self-pity. Love is a very selfish thing. I know that. There has never been a chance for the third one. Even when the one loves as much. No! Once I will leave my four walls, I will again wear my immaculate, proper uniform and hair-cut and this sweet smile, pretending, that I'm overseeing everything, which has nothing to do with my profession, while running one double shift after another, to escape the loneliness of my quarters, my bed, my mind... ...and to escape the image, which starts to follow me, once I'm alone and probably will do so for a very long time. I didn't think, that something might go wrong two days ago, when a lieutenant stopped me in the corridor and asked me to bring a PADD with a report to the captain's office. I agreed, because I wasn't in hurry and wanted to go to the captain anyway. It is amazing how the whole ship changes, when he is on board. Three weeks ago he had left to participate in a conference. Which sort? I don't know. I forgot. Actually, there are so many conferences being held on our part of space. It seems as if the whole inner and outer Federation's politics would be handled at conferences. Which cost a lot of money, which again is coming out of the pocket of the common tax payers and all this is called life. Well... What did I want to talk about? Oh yes, about the ship without its captain. This has been always a strange thing, because the ship always knew, when the captain has been away. Suddenly the corridors became quieter, the machines were summing in a slightly different tone, the crew seemed to move somehow slowly, more carefully, the jokes in the mess hall got more forced and our gazes and movements somehow unsure. And then, when he has been beamed back on board, with him the life had returned back. I can't explain it otherwise, but people, engines, corridors, the mess hall - all changed in the simple moment, when our captain came back aboard. Perhaps it has something to do with the aura of confidence, which this man is radiating. Or with our believes, that the ship and the captain are one soul. Who knows... Thinking nothing bad I stepped into the office ... ...and in the next moment I run out, refusing to return in my mind even for a second to the scene, I saw in this room. I have finished my shift as always, behaving as usual, never even slightly allowed the others to see, that in the reality I have been shaken to my bones. But as already said: resistance is futile. This all came back into the focus of my mind, when I hit the button for an another silly soap space opera and instead of the handsome hero and the love of his dream I have seen only them. I have said: them. But this is wrong. No, not wrong. I would rather say: uncompleted. What I have seen, it was not only them, but something, which is very hard to describe. I stepped in this office and although the sight of the Human and the Vulcan lasted only a short moment, the picture froze in me like a photo with all the small details, which make it even more beautiful. And every time I close my eyes I see them like this. I saw the Human, who knelt in the front of the Vulcan, his left hand placed onto the pale olive skin of the slender thigh, while the right one had been swung around the waist, to get the hips closer. Both forms were turned a little so I could see the Human's mouth almost at the base of the Vulcan's cock, the golden lashes framing the eyelid and the pearls of sweat on the forehead. But simultaneously, from the front view, to see the half closed eyes of the Vulcan and his lips parted a little, his head bent down and his gaze focused onto the kneeling Human, while the fine boned hand was gently supporting the Human's head. What I saw in that moment was the admiration and adoration, the most gentle tenderness, the grace, the worship, the humbleness, the beauty, the love. And an invisible veil around them, an indescribable feeling of a complete act, of belonging to each other. And the fact, that in most intimate moment of their, there has been no one else. No place for an intruder like me. I don't think, they have registered, that they were not alone. In the case of love, there have been always only two. The third one, however he might love, will always be left out. Christine, face it. It's over. End. ________________________________________________________