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The suns had set on New Vulcan. Purple sky stretched as far as the eye could see, across the low, tan houses with their lights on. Taller buildings, ones with dense cacti on the side, sat in the distance, dark from lack of use. The bus stops were empty. Low glowing lights from night trains lit up the dark backdrop of mountains that enclosed the capital of New Vulcan.
The night was smooth, warm and casual. They were staying with Ambassador Spock for shore leave. It let Spock see his father while they also got to listen to his doppelganger's stories from his universe.
But the night had shifted slightly. Purple skies had melted to grey clouds, thick with rain. And the skies opened upon the planet, washing away the dirt from the paths. A storm with no wind.
Leonard had gotten up when Jim went to get more drinks, he still had a finger of whiskey left, and wandered out to Ambassador Spock’s terrace.
The fence enclosing it was black, made of an ornate metal with swirling strips filling out the frame. Below was Spock’s impressive garden, a patio made of weathered stone, the pathway led to a pond, meditation area, eating area and small nooks to lose yourself in. Small solar powered lights reflected white off the surfaces.
Beyond the exterior walls were wide pathways, dusty from the surrounding landscape. A few more houses sat a bit further away, a few windows lit up in each. The pathway tapered off under the streetlight and if Leonard squinted he could see people collecting outside the smaller houses that neared the mountains.
He didn't think what it was about at first, until he tuned back into his surroundings and felt the fat droplets of rain hit his head. His shirt was almost soaked, whiskey watered down and body a touch colder than before.
Oh right, the storm.
He inhaled deeply. A smile crept up on his face. That rain smell was thick in the air, bouncing off every surface and making him go light headed.
"You should come inside, Leonard." Ambassador Spock’s wheezy voice came through the rain. "You'll get cold."
"I always used to hang out in the rain,"
"Yes, your counterpart often talked of his love of storms." He could hear the smile in his voice.
Leonard turned around. Spock stood under the overhang of the roof, perfectly dry in his mulberry robes. He had that same ghost of a smile that he always did, like he knew better, or more accurately, knew better than to worry.
"'S just the feel of 'em, you know?" He said. "The sound, the cosy feeling you get, makes me happy."
He shrugged and joined him under the overhang. The inside of the house was toasty and warm.
"I used to hold my daughter if she had a nightmare and it was raining, would sing songs and tell her it was alright."
His eyes pricked with tears as he thought of her. She was ten now, she'd only been four when he joined Starfleet. A whole six years he'd missed.
He sniffed. He missed her so much it hurt sometimes. Some days it felt like he was one bad shift away from packing it all up and going home. But he knew that would mean leaving his friends behind, and that would make him equally as sad.
"I miss her, want to hold her sometimes, show her the places I've seen instead of just telling her." He looked at Spock with red eyes. "She wants to join Starfleet too, as a xenozoologist, loves frogs."
Spock smiled and nodded. He was always so patient.
"I try and tell her the good stuff so I don't put her off, it's her dream, I don't want to spoil that for her."
He didn't say anything for a while after that, settled on looking at the horizon. The figures outside the houses had doubled, no, tripled, since he'd started talking.
Changing the subject, he wiped his nose on his already wet sleeve and nodded toward the figures, "Why are so many people out tonight? Don't Vulcans know it's illogical to stay outside in a storm?"
Spock laughed, "Storms were rare in Vulcan. We had rain, we had to so life could be sustained, but storms to this scale were so rare that most young Vulcans, or young to Vulcan standards, have never seen one before."
"Not even off planet?"
"Perhaps so, but so many Vulcans are focused here, on rebuilding our society, that few leave to visit other planets."
Leonard thought for a moment. Memories of singing to a baby Joanna came to mind. Or his father showing him a lightning storm to make sure he knew he was safe.
"That's unfortunate."
They fell into silence again as Leonard watched the figures return to their houses. Little amber lights lit again. Silhouettes behind drawn blinds went about their evenings. The domesticity of it made his heart ache more for Joanna.
"Let's go inside, you need dry clothes."
Leonard nodded and took one last glance at the distant figures before returning to warmth. He needed to call Joanna tomorrow.