~ Lemon ice-cream with whipped cream ~

"Don't stir your cup into pieces."

My gaze leaves the chipped cup, strolls over the worn out table and rest finally on a pair of gym shoes.

I grumble something. Unwilling to think of anyone else than me.

The owner of said pair of gym shoes isn't disturbed by that. I hear the scratches of a chair, the rustle of cloths, when my uninvited guest is sitting down.

I can smell the scent of lemon ice-cream.

I hate this scent. It is present everywhere around me. Present everywhere inside of me. And it reminds me of something, I don't want to think about. Not now.

Then why am I thinking about it nevertheless?

"What do you want?"

"To annoy you? To provacate you until you kick me in the ass? Listen your tale why you're sitting in the middle of the night in this god-forsaken bar on this god-forsaken space-station, never stopping trying to stir right through the bottom of your cup?"

I can almost see him shocking his shoulders indifferently.

"Just take what you like."

Reluctantly I lift the head and size up the man sitting vis-à-vis.

The view is the same as it was almost five years ago, when I visited this bar for the first time: A black denim shirt... a few buttons open to show the slightly haired chest. Dark hair, falling down in soft waves onto the shoulders. No smile or grin screws up the sensual mouth. The narrow nose, a bit wry since it was broken in a fist fight - you only can notice it if you know where to look. But it gives the face something... "fascinating" - I hate that word! Dark-green, in their intensity almost shining eyes.

I close my eyes. I don't want to see more!

The man keeps silent, just waiting until I can't ignore him any longer.

I go on where I stopped...

Slowly those penetrating eyes close, allow me to look at the rest: A threecornered hair-line. Black, slanted eyebrows on a high forehead. My gaze slid almost automatically to the elegantly upturned ears. The sparkling gem in the right earlobe jeers me.

"Well: Why are you here?"

I don't answer. Doesn't want to answer.

Why? How should I explain something I have no answers by myself? Don't want to have.

Instead I keep on stirring my cold coffee.

He bents over the table and grabs my hand.

"You are jealous, Jim."

"That's absurd. Of whom do you think?"

Have I really said this? I don't know. Perhaps he's right. Perhaps I am jealous.

He rises and pulls me with him.

"Come on. This bar does no good to you."

I follow him, silently. There's something upon him catching me, like it was five years ago.

While he's walking in front of me through the crowd of humans and nonhumans filling the passages, my gaze sticks on him.

He's tall. And slender. And elegant. Everything on him is elegant. Even dressed in rag he would be elegant.

Like *Him*.

Rage... and loneliness... and bitterness... They form a knot in my stomach and choke me.

Suddenly he stops and I ran into him. His hand grabs my chin.

Hard. Inexorable.

He forces me to look at him.

"You're an idiot!"

Then he releases me. And walks on.

One moment I keep standing, while the live around me keeps on running. I feel like if I'm in a fast driving train: I'm sitting motionless... and around me life rushes by.

Some meters away he stops, turning he looks at me.

Waiting.

Urging.

These eyes.

They catches me and I obey.

Minutes later we're in his quarters. He holds me. Allows me to burn myself with his bodyheat. So hot.

Again he lifts my chin, kisses me. I remember these kisses, the intensity, that nothing-could-be-more-important-now.

Does *He* also kisses that way?

I will never know.

I don't want this now. Want to retreat.

"No." A growl, more a hiss.

And I give up. Let myself fall. He catches me, embraces me with his passion, his friendship.

Love? No. We don't love each other. Never have done.

His fire engulfs me. I burn. Raise with flames. Fall down to the ground together with the ashes.

Then - like the Phoenix-bird - I arise anew.

He holds me, caresses me, allows me to snuggle against him.

It is quiet. The silence embraces me, fills the emptiness inside. I feel, I'm becoming calm.

"I'm an idiot."

"Yes."

Unwilling I sit up. Look at him.

"Why, Sejtan? Why am I an idiot?"

"Because you're throwing his love away."

I lay on my back. Away from him. Cover my eyes with an arm to not see him. Instead I see *Him*.

A moan. Was it from me?

"Why do you always hurt him so much? What has he done to you?"

"-"

"When will you stop to deceive him with nameless women? When it will be too late? When it is *too late* for him?"

"-"

"He was in the bar today, alone. Seeking for you. He didn't talk. But I have seen his eyes, when he noticed you in that niche. With that women."

"STOP IT!"

I jump out of the bed. Try to flee that warm timbre, being so similar to *His*.

"Running away again?"

No irony. No blame.

A question.

Nothing else.

A question.

"*Am* I running away again?"

"Only you can answer that. If you love him, go to him."

"He doesn't need me."

"I won't be sure with that. He needs you, as you need him."

I turn, staring at Sejtan. The man who teached me to love Vulcans. At those days. When I was alone and thinking I never would become a good captain. I had taken shore leave, entered a shuttle and arrived at this space station. I made myself drunk. And then I saw him. Those eyes, looking through me at once in those days.

It has been my first night spent with a man.

I thought, I had fallen in love with him. Admired, adored him.

He didn't laugh. But he refused my love. He offered me friendship instead.

And sex.

I took both.

Then I returned to earth. And *SHE* became mine.

Did he knew?

There was no space left in my life for anything else than my ship. But nevertheless.

*He* was there. As same fascinating, catching and enigmatic as Sejtan.

More than Sejtan.

*He*, too, offered me his friendship and I took it.

It became something, I *owned*. Something, I knew it was mine.

Until yesterday.

Seeing nothing I stare at a chessboard. One chessman is lying next to the board, the rest is ready for a match.

"You know chess?"

"Yes?"

He gets up, embraces me. I turn round, snuggling against him.

"Damn. Why has he done that?"

"For the same reason, you're doing it. Again and again."

"But why now? Why is he suddenly interested in something else than his tricorder? Or his chessmen? Or his scientific researches? Or... "

I grow silent. No. Sejtan's laugh makes me grow silent.

Helplessly I look at him. He is really amused. Laughing, head laid back, while pulling me close.

He's fascinating me. I know no other Vulcan doing that. But Sejtan isn't as other Vulcans. He never told me why he's living on this space station. He just lives here. Like so much else, he *just* does.

He kisses me fugitive. Again this scent.

Lemon ice-cream with whipped cream!

It irritates me, distracts me.

"Why do you smell like lemon ice-cream?"

He stops laughing and looks at me without understanding.

"Lemon ice-cream?"

"With whipped cream."

"With whipped cream?

No idea. I always believed Humans senses a scent like cinnamon on Vulcans?"

Immediately I understand. And start laughing.

"Cinnamon!"

I keep on laughing, gasping for air.

"Mom always flavored ice-cream with cinnamon. Especially lemon ice-cream. No idea why she did so."

Now he starts grinning.

"Jim Kirk, you're nuts."

"Am I?"

"YES!"

He pulls me over to the bed with him and we fall down on it.

"And now tell me what had happened."

"You new already."

"I've seen him. With her. But I don't know, what had happened. And what had been your participation."

I shook my shoulders.

Suddenly I feel like acting infantile. Damn it! *He* hadn't done anything else than I do again and again. In front of his eyes.

"He has a lover. One of the female diplomats, we accompaigned to this station to these negotiations."

"I see. Something more?"

"Nothing more. You're right. I am jealous. Of her."

"Than why are you lying here with *me* in this bed? Naked. Instead of being with *Him*, now, in exact the same condition?"

"I'm, too, asking that myself."

"Then why are you still here?"

I glare at him. Then I get up and get dressed.
I leave without looking back.

The next morning I visit the bar again. With *Him*.

Sejtan greets us, doing some vulcan small talk with Spock.

Smiling at me.

I smile back. And once more I ask myself *why* this Vulcan can read me so easy.

Spock bents forward. I feel his lips at my throat, his breath tickling my ear.

"Because he loves you. As much as I do."


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