Insanity. That's the only way to describe it. After years of holding back emotion, Spock's being driven up the wall. He thought this was over. He thought emotion couldn't find a home in him. Oh, how wrong he was. Here he is, a Vulcan who should be paying attention to his station on the bridge, staring at the back of his captain's head, letting his mind wander and dream for the first time. That sense of need, of possessiveness, is unnervingly foreign, and he loves it almost as much as he loves Jim. He's losing his grip on reality and savoring the feeling of the fall. All he hopes for is that James Kirk is standing at the bottom, patiently waiting to catch him.