I'd been walking around for almost four hours already. Covered all the rooms of the convention hall, earmarked stalls for later deep exploration, and gone about my mission as boldly as I could, searching for 'the one'. There had been nods of recognition, brief exchanges of conversation, deceptive appearances too many to relate. Every time I thought I'd found 'him' there was always some detail he hadn't got just right - the stance, the angle of the head or the cold logicality of the persona lacked ultimate perfection, this element or that element jarred or simply pissed me off. Dozens upon dozens trying to be 'him', but lacking commitment. I'd gone to way too much trouble, spent too much of my life in mastering my role, to accept a hint of second best.
But I wasn't about to give up, and my scan continued to take in any and every imposter in this constellation of the good, the bad and the ugly. Many impressed me with their devotion to the cause, their personal need to realise the truth of the stars, that made us all feel a part of this journey into the unknown. Their faith and belief kept me going in my quest. I'd not yet reached the point of thinking "I cannae take it any more".
And then I saw him. 'Him'. A man for the minutiae. A man who'd mastered his character, who inhabited that half alien being. I could feel him sucking in my appearance, the rightness of my uniform and hair, the sardonic confidence I projected. Our eyes met, the final step in our mutual appraisals, and we had the same thought.
He was Spock, I was Kirk, and that's all either of us needed to know.
