Title: Solitude
Fandom: Star Trek (Original Series)
Characters: Spock
Rating: G-
Warnings: None
Notes: For the prompt "wind" over at 
spock100.
He'd gone, that night, to the recreation room, as he did, those times when he was sure no one would be looking — when no one would want to use it for sports or hour-long beach vacations — when he was certain no one would ask him what he'd been doing. It was no one's business, but his own, he thought, folding his clothes beside the door, before stepping to the centre of the room and engaging the program.
In a quick flash of light, he stood atop a high, red mountain, at the heart of his family's land, on Vulcan — a place he'd never been allowed to play, as a child, since it was only used for ceremonial purposes. (And in the back of his head, he also knew he would only be allowed on that mountain once in his life, since he was not truly Vulcan.) He spread his arms to the feathery desert wind, letting the breath of his homeworld caress his skin like no lover ever could. The red sand scraped lightly against his skin, like tiny lovebites from the planet itself, as the heavy heat of the sun lay across his shoulders like a furnace-hot hand.
No, he was not all Vulcan, and he never would be, doing irrational things like this, but he didn't suppose that mattered nearly as much as being able to calm that human sense of loneliness with the touch of a home he had no right to know.
