Title: Letting Go

Author: Laura Jacquez Valentine (laurav@stones.com)

Rating: PG-13

Codes: S/C 

Series: TOS

Summary: Set in a spinoff from the OSO universe (OSO2), Spock

continues his relationship with Chekov.  The universes divide at

"Mentor"; this is the OSO2 version of that story.



Note: The following OSO stories are part of the "canon" of OSO2:

  Journal on the Way to Babel

  First Light

  Wintergreen

  The Ring 

  Doctor My Eyes



Date:	Fri, 14 Aug 1998 05:56:00 GMT



I blame Jane Seaton for this, because she hooked me on this pairing.



Disclaimer: Paramount/Viacom owns Star Trek, the associated universe,

and the characters.  I am using them for the purpose of this story, I

promise I won't break them, I won't sell them to the other kids, and

I'll put them back when I'm done.



----

_Letting Go_





I do not love him.  I cannot love him.  I have loved Jim so long and

so faithfully, almost since we met--and has my heart been stolen so

easily by this boy?  Pavel smells of wintergreen, and his breathing is

slow and even as he sleeps on my bed and in my arms.



I watch him sleep.  I love to watch him sleep.



Yes, that much I will admit.  I must burn out his desire for me soon,

before I lose the will to do so--but I will miss watching him sleep.



He surprised me with his passion, with his control, with his strength.

He and I are both bruised.  It is not an uncommon occurrance since we

became lovers.  I am Vulcan-strong, and he is forceful.  



I rub the bruises on my wrists and remember the first time I touched

him, comforting him when he confessed to loving Sulu.  And so much

later, when he kissed me, his mouth intoxicating and human-cool.  (I

crave humans with an intensity that frightens me.  I crave the taste

and smell of them.  I crave Pavel in particular, wintergreen-sweet

Pavel, son of Russia.)  I remember the first time we were together,

when he held me down--he still does--and bit me until he drew blood.



I cannot love him.  I must not love him.



Oh, Pavel-kam--



He shifts a little in his sleep, pressing his body against mine.  I

want nothing more than to hold him forever.



He does not love me.  I am sure he does not love me.  There is

respect, and trust, and affection--not love.



Or there was not love at the beginning.  It has been some time since I

lowered my shields with him.  I am afraid of what I might find in him.

I am afraid of what he might find in me. 



He and I ate lunch together today, and we discussed the warp vector

problem we have been working on.  We have been eating, sleeping, and

working together.  We have been exercising together.  We have watched

the stars together at night, when I have finished my chess game with

Jim.  We have become companions, not merely sexual partners.



I must not love him.  I will not love him.



I rouse him and draw him to me, kissing him, running my hands over his

body until he moans against my mouth and his erection presses against

my thigh.  I raise my hand to his face and begin the meld for the

little-bonding.  His mind welcomes me so easily--



I know we are making love.  I can feel him within me, feel his mouth

on mine, feel my fingers holding him to me and my orgasm building. 

But it is external--I am lost in his mind.  I cannot trace the

pathways to burn them out.  I cannot light the nerve-fires.



He loves me.  Affection and respect and trust deepened each time we

touched each other, with each moment we spent together, and he loves

me as easily and naturally as he breathes.



I will not love him.  I do love him.  I could no more stop loving him,

thief of my heart, than I could kill myself.



"Pavel--"  His name is muffled because he is kissing me.  He pulls

away.



"Spock?"



"Pavel-kam, I must tell you--"



"I know," he says, "and I had hoped."



He senses my confusion through the meld.  "Deepen the meld, Spock.

That's an order."



//You overreach yourself, Ensign,// I answer, inside his head.



//And you never reach far enough, Commander.  Deepen the meld.//



And I do.  I weave our minds together.  I touch the sore place where

he loved Sulu, and the sore place where I loved Jim.  I once told Jim

he would not survive the Enterprise and me.  Now he will not have to.



Pavel wakes me early, and we crowd into the shower together.  The

new-formed bond is raw but strong; a true-bond.  I have never had a

true-bond before.  I feel whole for the first time in my life.  I

reach out along the bond and his mind answers, as wintergreen sharp

and sweet as the rest of him.



I pull him into my arms and kiss him.  Oh, my Pavel--



I am surprised to discover that I am crying.



---



The End