[Kenya has and will always be home for Nyota, regardless of where she is and what time she's in. It's where she was born and raised, where her toes dug into the moist soil of her backyard after a rainstorm, where she was taught to be kind and intelligent, that education was important because no war or enemies could ever take that from her. It is where her family still resides, where she creates time to visit every so often to connect with her parents and catch up with her siblings, immersing herself in her native culture with food and music and her mother tongue.
But there is no law or regulation that says a person cannot have more than one home or even more than two. The ship is also a home. Surrounded by people day in and day out, to the edges of the universe, struggling to put all the pieces back together in the face of constant loss, is something that makes cold steel a warm home.
Spock, himself, is Nyota's third home. He is the column she finds herself bracing against, reveling in his ability to tuck away his emotions while allowing her to have hers open and unbidden. He is where she rests her body, parting her thighs to take him inside her, creating a day to day ritual around meals, housework, and partaking in their own interests.
She's given him permission to take a peek into her mind in the past, to pick up what she chooses not to put down, and Nyota is grateful that Spock has never used this for nefarious purposes. Nyota almost barely ever feels him inside her head, not without asking for express permission immediately beforehand, and knowing that he sometimes doesn't need to just to know how she feels says how far he's come.
The kiss ends far too soon for her liking, and the verbal greeting is late, yes, but still very much appreciated.]
Welcome home, Spock.
[Welcome back to her, to everything he needs from her that she is willing to give.]
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But there is no law or regulation that says a person cannot have more than one home or even more than two. The ship is also a home. Surrounded by people day in and day out, to the edges of the universe, struggling to put all the pieces back together in the face of constant loss, is something that makes cold steel a warm home.
Spock, himself, is Nyota's third home. He is the column she finds herself bracing against, reveling in his ability to tuck away his emotions while allowing her to have hers open and unbidden. He is where she rests her body, parting her thighs to take him inside her, creating a day to day ritual around meals, housework, and partaking in their own interests.
She's given him permission to take a peek into her mind in the past, to pick up what she chooses not to put down, and Nyota is grateful that Spock has never used this for nefarious purposes. Nyota almost barely ever feels him inside her head, not without asking for express permission immediately beforehand, and knowing that he sometimes doesn't need to just to know how she feels says how far he's come.
The kiss ends far too soon for her liking, and the verbal greeting is late, yes, but still very much appreciated.]
Welcome home, Spock.
[Welcome back to her, to everything he needs from her that she is willing to give.]