He could accept that the view of the bay was attractive, in a geographical sense, but the great expanse of water still struck him as unusual. Those humans he knew who had been to Vulcan reported the same feeling but in reverse. The absence of open water was unusual to them.

The thought struck him, that, with the exception of some of the rainforest research stations, he would have found it difficult to find somewhere on Earth to work as part of Starfleet that was less like Vulcan.

He found the constant noise of the city easier to ignore than the ocean, although, that too was different to Vulcan, but the noise ceased, or at least diminished sometimes, but the sea was always there.

When he had come here to the Academy, he had known it would be different, and steeled himself for it. He had expected difference, and finding it, accepted it. There was great truth in the concept of infinite diversity in infinite combinations. There was wisdom out there that needed to be found, and he could not have found it on Vulcan. Contrary to certain people’s beliefs, and beliefs they were, illogical and unfounded, he considered that he would be able to contribute more to Vulcan science here than he could at home.

He had expected that, once he graduated, that he would never come to this city again. He liked being on a starship, the open expanse of space was comfortable. And yet, there was a great belief amongst both humans and vulcans that passing your knowledge on through teaching was a duty, a satisfying one, but a duty none the less.

When Captain Pike returned to Earth after Talos IV, Spock came with him. He would teach for a while, until his Captain chose to return to space, or Starfleet needed him to go back out there. He should have considered the possibility of San Francisco before he did that, but Spock was never someone who would shirk their duty due to minor difficulties. He forgot to steel himself a second time.

San Francisco had always been a city of differences to his experiences, and he should not have been as surprised as he was that San Francisco was where he met Nyota. They had broken no rules, nor bent them. The moment he realised there was anything more than proper between them he had worked to avoid being her teacher and prevented himself from being involved in the marking of her work. What had happened last night was a logical progression of their previous interaction and yet, it held in it experiences that he had never expected to feel outside of his bond.

San Francisco would always remain too damp, and he would be grateful for it.