SUNSET ON BELTARA 5
By Casey Greene
November 11, 2001

He looked at her. Like always, she was taking readings. Damn the inventor of
the tricorder, he thought. He let out a mental sigh. A verbal one would have only won
him an annoyed glance. So he turned his face upward. It was almost dusk on the planet
they were exploring, and the sun had just dipped under the horizon. In the sky was the
most beautiful sunset he had ever seen.

He looked at her again. But this time at her as she was, not how she acted or
what he thought of her. Her face, intent on the readings that appeared on her tricorder,
was bathed in a soft, pinkish glow, a reflection of the sky above her. Damn, he thought,
if she was anyone else – he looked back at the sky. But if she were someone else, then
she wouldn't be her.

"Hey, T'Pol. Ever see a sunset like this one?" he asked quietly, trying not to
startle her.

She looked up at him from her tricorder and turned to the sky. He watched as
her face changed in the light, from Vulcanly unemotional to slightly awestruck to calm
appreciation. He recognized each change in her expression, and as each hidden emotion
played subtly across her face, she grew only more beautiful. If only, he thought, if only.

She turned back to face him, and stared at him for what seemed to be an eternity.
"No," she said quietly, recognizing that the situation called for softness, "I never have.
It's beautiful," she said, still looking at him.

"I thought Vulcans weren't allowed to express their emotions."

"Appreciation of beauty is not an emotion, necessarily. It is me- it is an opinion."

He looked at her for a second more, and then turned back to the sunset. The
pinks and oranges were fading to purples and blues. It was nearing time to go back to
the ship, and he knew that he should be starting to pack up. But his thoughts were not
on leaving. Why had she begun to say "merely an opinion"? Why had she not said
"merely"? And why did she say "necessarily"? Did she mean that sometimes
appreciation is an emotion? She never says anything carelessly, so she must have meant
something by it. Oh, but what? Would that I could know her mind!

He stood there for a long time. He didn't hear her close her tricorder, didn't see
her look over at him, start to speak and decide not to say anything. He didn't hear her
pack up the equipment, or see her glance at him every few moments.

She walked over to him when she was done, and stood next to him for a moment,
trying to see what he was looking at. She placed her hand on his arm carefully. It was
cooler than hers was, she noted, but not so cold as to be harmful to him. He turned his
head and looked at her.

"It's time to go back to the ship," she said. He put his other hand on hers, and
looked up at the now – dark sky, filling with stars.

"Thank you," he said, squeezing her hand slightly, and then dropping it. He
sighed, aloud this time, and turned to pick up the equipment.

She caught his arm. He looked back at her questioningly. "It is I who should be
thanking you." He frowned slightly. "I would have missed the sunset if you hadn't told
me about it. Thank you," she said, her hand still on his arm.

"No problem," he said, smiling softly.

They turned around and picked up the equipment. Together, they walked back
to the shuttlecraft.