Cinderella, That’s Who

If you want your children to be intelligent, read them fairy tales. If you want them to be more intelligent, read them more fairy tales. ― Albert Einstein

Despite the late hour when they returned to the suite, Spock agreed to Jim’s request and showed him the email exchange he had had with his mother over the past two days. The first emails were heartfelt expressions of their mutual loneliness while they were out of contact. The majority of the rest were catching up with one another, what the families had been doing, how her research was progressing. She was very careful not to inquire in any of her messages about his working situation for which he was grateful.

Spock thought he should feel self-conscious sharing such personal, and Human, glimpses into the relationship he and his mother were reestablishing. But as it had been Jim that had brought them back together, Spock felt no such reservations. And he had shared things with Jim that he could not readily imagine sharing with anyone else. Jim knew him in a way no one, except possibly his mother, did.

“I’m glad for you both,” Jim said when he had read the last message.

“As I am. Thank you again,” Spock said, looking into the blue eyes that held so much truth in them.

Jim shook his head. “No. It was still wrong for me to contact her behind your back.”

“That’s of no importance,” Spock said. “It is forgiven. It has been.”

Jim smiled at his words, taking his hand to guide him into the bedroom. “It’s way past my bedtime.”

“Indeed,” Spock said, enjoying the chance to watch Jim undress as he did the same. When they were both bare, they slipped under the covers, content to curl together, their fingers tangled between them. “Good night, Jim.”

“’Night,” Jim said sleepily, a tiny smile on his lips as he drifted off.

~o0o~

Spock was not surprised the next morning to find himself alone. He thought Jim leaving would have woken him but Jim had left without disturbing Spock’s sleep at all.

Left on his own, Spock lay in the huge bed and considered all that had happened since Jim had stopped for directions. Was it truly less than a week ago? That did not seem possible. Yet it was true. Which meant that tomorrow Jim would be returning to Virginia. And Spock would never see him again. Never see the sparkle in those incredibly expressive blue eyes. Never make him laugh again. Never take a shower with him, a shower that would inevitably lead to more. And Spock’s heart broke a little more with each thought. How could he stand to say good-bye to the man who had started out as just one more trick and had turned into so much more? How could he go back to offering his services, his body to strangers, and have it mean nothing as it once did?

It wasn’t just that Jim had given him a tiny taste of the ‘good life.’ The material things - the delicious food, the new clothes, the luxury of the hotel suite – they had made an impression. A much bigger impression was made by Jim himself – the way he listened to Spock without dismissing him because of the profession he was in, the way he talked to Spock – like an equal, capable of understanding what Jim was saying. Spock was more now than he had been before he met Jim.

When he and Jim parted for the last time, would he go back to being just a prostitute? An outsider? A half-Vulcan who had no home on either of the planets of his origins? The thoughts of that were more than Spock could contemplate. In just over 24 hours, Jim would climb onto his private jet to be flown back east by his personal pilot. He’d go back to his house and his horses and his partner and his not-really-daughter. Spock would be barely more than a memory and a tiny dent in his impressive bank account.

They had not discussed their leave-taking - if Spock would leave the hotel before Jim. Or if Spock would wait until Jim had already left. It hardly mattered, Spock realized. Jim would go home. He’d be alone. More alone than he’d ever been before he met Jim. The space Jim had occupied would be more than vacant. It would be a reminder of those things Spock could not realistically expect to have as his own.

The more Spock considered Jim’s departure the next day, the more the idea felt like shards of glass slicing his soul. He wasn’t sure he’d survive it.

Making up his mind, Spock left the bed to shower. It was the quickest shower he had taken, little more than a cursory going over with the soap. When he emerged, he chose a pair of plain pants before pulling on his Disneyland shirt. The rest of the clothes he left in the closet along with the other shoes and the tuxedo.

The credits Jim had agreed to pay him were on the dresser, untouched and unused. Spock calculated the amount that Jim had spent on him and how much the next 24 hours would add up to. Subtracting that amount from all of the credit chips, Spock took the others, pocketing them but feeling guilty about it. The phone and the room key he left on the dresser next to the credits.

Without the room key, he could only take the main elevator which opened on the lobby. Naturally, Ms Uhura was crossing the foyer and smiled in greeting.

“Good morning, Mr. Spock,” she said brightly.

“Ms Uhura,” he responded, meaning to not stop to engage in conversation with her.

“How was the opera?” she asked. He knew that her interest was genuine and it would be a gross unkindness not to answer her honestly.

“It was spectacular,” he told her. “I have never experienced a performance of its beauty or grandeur.”

She nodded at that, her smile even brighter. “Did Dr. Kirk enjoy it equally?”

His eyes dropped at the mention of Jim’s name and he could only hope she did not notice. “I believe that he did,” Spock said, catching her eye again.

“Is something wrong?” she asked kindly, studying him closely.

“No,” he said, hoping the lie sounded like the truth to her.

“Spock,” she said in a soft, gentle voice. When she placed her hand on his arm in a gesture of support, he nearly bolted. “Tell me.”

He shook his head, looking away from her warm, kind eyes. “It is of no importance.”

“I know that’s not true. Did something happen last night?”

“No. The dinner and opera were all that anyone could have hoped,” he assured her.

“Something’s not right,” she insisted. She glanced around the foyer before guiding him over to the chairs where they had chatted yesterday. “Tell me,” she repeated when they were seated.

“It would not be appropriate,” he finally said.

She considered those words for a moment, studying him anew. “Where are you going? Are you taking the Ferrari to the beach?”

“That is not my intention,” he told her honestly.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” she said. “The reservation is only through tomorrow. Jim goes back to Virginia.”

Spock stared down at his hands tightly clasped on his thighs. He nodded once, not trusting his voice.

“The idea of Jim leaving you is too hard. So you’re leaving today. Avoid saying good-bye.”

He nodded again. “I’m not proud of being such a coward,” he confessed in a small voice.

“I don’t think you are being a coward,” Nyota told him. “I think you are trying to protect yourself from a broken heart.”

“It is too late to prevent it,” he found himself saying. When he looked up at her, his wounded heart in his eyes, his expression was one of near hopelessness.

“I know,” she said softly. “You must know he feels the same way.”

“It does not matter,” Spock said. “He is a corporate giant. I am a prostitute.”

“Do you think that’s all he sees when he looks at you?” she asked.

“It is what I am.”

“He doesn’t care, Spock. He’s in love with you. It’s obvious every time he looks at you. He doesn’t see someone forced to make a decision that ensured his survival. He sees the person he loves. How you met is of no consequence to him.”

“He is leaving tomorrow. I am remaining here,” Spock told her.

The bitterness in his voice was hard to hear but she understood why he felt the way that he did. “I’m sorry. Did you ask him? About what happens now?”

“There is no reason to discuss it. He is leaving. I am not.”

“Don’t go like this, Spock. Visit the beach. Have some breakfast. Talk to him when he gets back tonight.”

He shook his head. How could she not understand? “It will only delay the inevitable. Tomorrow he will return to his home as will I. Our worlds are not the same.”

“Haven’t you ever heard the expression that love conquers all?” she asked. Because she really really wanted to believe it was true.

“I have never known that to be the case,” Spock said.

“It must be true or it wouldn’t be a cliché,” she pointed out.

“For whom has it been true, Ms Uhura? Who has married above their true station and ‘lived happily ever after?’”

“You want me to name someone? You want a name?” She wanted him to refuse but she only got a lifted eyebrow in response. He was daring her and she knew it. “Oh dear. The pressure of a name…I got it. Cinda’fuckin'rella,” she finally said wondering when she had gotten so angry. And was her anger at him? Or at Jim for doing this to Spock? Or at herself for wanting more for Spock than he clearly believed he deserved?

“Well.” He was startled but he no longer looked quite so… sad.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, shaking her head. “That was completely inappropriate.”

“Yet very much appreciate,” he told her. “I only wish that I could have your faith in fairy tale endings.”

She sighed. She knew she had lost. “There is nothing I can say to make you change your mind.”

“There is not. I left the key in the room. That will assure you I do not intend to return.”

“All right,” she said sadly. “Let me have our service drive you home. At no charge to you or Mr. Kirk.”

“That’s entirely unnecessary.”

“I know it’s not necessary. But please let me do this for you. To thank you.”

“In order to thank me?” he asked, certain he had not heard correctly.

“For teaching me not to judge a book by its cover,” she said with a sad smile. “It is a lesson I will not forget.”

“I accept then,” he said, knowing that to refuse would be an unkindness.

“Good. It will take about twenty minutes for them to arrive. Please eat breakfast before you go. It will be on the house as well, if that makes you feel better.”

He nodded reluctantly but followed her to the restaurant, going to the buffet when she left him to arrange the car. In truth he had almost no appetite but he took a selection of Vulcan fruits, knowing that there was little chance he would have the same choices available in the future.

He was just finishing the fruit and the Vulcan spice tea when she returned to let him know that the service had arrived. “Thank you,” he said in acknowledgement, following her to the front of the hotel. The driver silently opened the back door, waiting for Spock to enter. “Thank you for everything,” he said to Uhura, pretending he did not see the tears shimmering in her eyes.

“Please take care of yourself,” she said. The kiss on his cheek was quick and light. And he appreciated her gesture.

“Where should I drive you?” the man in the front seat said. He sounded interested although Spock couldn’t imagine why he was being more than polite. Perhaps Uhura had not told the driver who his passenger was.

Spock gave the address to his apartment, the driver nodding. Neither of them spoke as they crossed town, arriving at Spock’s less than spectacular apartment within twenty minutes.

“Thank you,” Spock said, leaving the car and watching it drive away. Trying not to consider it any further, he went up the four flights of stairs to his apartment, closing and locking the door when he was inside the tiny space that had seemed so much more just a week earlier.

~o0o~

Jim left his office at 4:00, deciding that he had accomplished almost everything that had brought him to California. If this trip had been less focused on business than some, he did not regret it. He had found something far more valuable and important than another business deal. And all he could think about was getting back to the hotel to tell Spock of his revelation.

He was crossing the foyer to the elevator when Ms Uhura intercepted him. If he had been at all paranoid, he would have thought that she was awaiting his arrival. But that hardly seemed reasonable. Since the rocky start of their acquaintance, they had gotten along just fine.

“Dr. Kirk,” she said, her tone making his heart miss a beat.

“Ms Uhura,” he responded, wondering what could have possibly happened to account for the expression on her face.

“May I speak with you? For a moment?” she asked politely.

“Of course,” he agreed, following her into her office where she closed the door. “Is something wrong?”

“I’m not sure. Well, that is, it’s not my place to say. I probably shouldn’t even be telling you this.”

“Tell me what?” he asked, an edge of impatience in his voice making her flinch. “You aren’t telling me anything.”

“This morning. I happened to be in the lobby when Mr. Spock left,” she finally said.

“Left? Went to the beach?” Jim asked, still not sure what was bothering her so.

“No. Left. Left the hotel. For good.”

“He left?” Jim asked, frowning at her. That couldn’t be right. Spock knew that Jim was not leaving until the next day. Where would he have gone?

“He… uhm… he said it would be easier to leave today rather than wait to say… well, rather than wait until tomorrow,” she finally said, hoping the tears she felt welling up were not going to spill over.

“He left?” Jim asked again, standing up.

“Yes, sir,” Uhura confirmed. “I suggested that he stay and talk to you. He declined.”

He looked down at her, his eyes frozen, his expression barely suppressed anger. “You should have called me.”

“I suppose I could have,” Uhura said evenly. “It was not my place to do so.”

“Not your place?” Jim said. “Then why are you telling me now?”

“Because I did not want you to discover it only after you had gone upstairs. And because I did insist that the hotel driver take him home,” she said, watching and waiting until her words sunk in.

“The hotel driver took him home,” Jim repeated, realization coming to him as he said the words.

“And as standard policy dictates, all addresses must be recorded,” she said, reaching into the pocket of her tailored trousers. “I took the liberty of writing this one down.”

He accepted the scrap of paper on which was recorded an address in the less desirable part of town, several miles from where he had first met Spock. “Thank you.”

“You have to know why he left, Jim,” Uhura said gently.

“Do I?” he asked, looking from the address to meet her steady gaze.

“He couldn’t stand the idea of saying good-bye. This was a lot easier on him.”

“Maybe good-bye wasn’t what I intended to say,” Jim suggested.

“He had no way of knowing that. He thinks you are Prince Charming and he’s still sitting among the ashes. He has no reason to believe in ‘happily ever after,’” she pointed out.

He nodded, looking back at the paper. “I should have told him.”

She smiled at him, standing to rest a hand on his arm. “Go tell him now.”

“Yes Fairy Godmother,” he said with a bright smile.

“Do you have the keys to the pumpkin?”

“I do,” he agreed, reaching into his pocket for the Ferrari keys. “Thank you,” he said with a  quick kiss on her cheek.

“You’re welcome. Now go.”