FIC: Divergence 21/25?
En route to Vulcan: USS Enterprise, year 2246
The briefing room doors hissed open, letting Bones, Uhura and the science officers out. The sound of his friend’s voice, speaking in his idiosyncratic Georgian manner, trying to reassure Uhura and convince her to “get some shut-eye” faded as the door closed with a decisive hiss-click.
‘…Once it starts, Captain, there’s no going back.’ Scotty muttered morosely.
Yes, he realized that. Jim looked to his First Officer’s bent head. Regret not having killed Nero when we had the chance, Spock? No, Jim thought bitterly, that wouldn’t have stopped this - that would have just left the Romulans without a leader and at least they knew Nero’s motives. ‘Spock, debrief Scotty on our backup plan.’
‘Yes, sir,’ the Vulcan intoned calmly, not looking up from his PADD. ‘Mr. Scott, I am sending the information directly to your PADD. Please examine the design, our proposed method of deployment and prepare several torpedoes to allow pillion delivery…’
Jim walked around the table and then turned, retracing his steps. In front of him, the holographic simulation was on pause at the final scene, the orange dotted lines forming the 3D representation of Vulcan’s primary sun beginning to unravel. Nero had been stockpiling trilithium, proto-matter and tekasite. If there was ever a good time to lose his professionalism, it was now. He didn’t know what tekasite was supposed to do, didn’t even know what it was but he recognized trilithium as a high-risk substance that was tightly regulated by all Federation worlds.
Theoretically, if even a little bit of pure trilithium was allowed to enter A Eridani 40, all fusion processes would cease. There would be a quantum implosion, the star would collapse under its own mass and generate a shockwave powerful enough to destroy everything within the Vulcan system. Together with the proto-matter, which was inherently unstable…Jim hit the replay button.
The simulation started again from the top. The verdict was the same: trilithium, matched with something as unstable as proto-matter, shot into the heart of Vulcan’s primary red giant equaled one hell of a big bang. A phantom pain bisected his chest and suddenly he was feeling almost faint.
Jim looked away, breathing hard. He thought he had worked through all of the after effects of that impromptu mindmeld but obviously not.
‘…Captain!’
His head snapped back around to face Spock, who was looking at him with concealed worry. ‘Captain, we have been steadily picking up anomalous readings from our communications and long-range sensor telemetry since our departure from the nebula.’
Jim straightened. ‘What do you mean?’
‘The area of space that covers P’Jem, Vulcan and Andoria is serviced by a central Starfleet-operated station, Echo 1. In the last hour, our communications have picked up a total of 1673 transmissions sent and received - an abnormally high number even for Echo 1 - and at least 275 of these transmissions were encrypted with the Bellerophon cipher. We have also successfully tapped into Starfleet Tactical’s subspace channel; they’re calling for mobilization towards the Romulan and Klingon Neutral Zone.’ Spock’s eyes darkened. ‘It appears that while our communications were inoperable within the nebula, the situation between the Romulan Empire and the Federation has worsened.’
His stomach clenched. ‘Scotty, how’s the cloak coming?’
‘Captain, if I may make a suggestion; Mr. Scott and I have been discussing an alternate possibility, to change the ship’s ID to that of a Federation vessel of this time period not currently present in the sector. As we carry all historical ship routes and manifests for the entire sector-’
‘We won’t have the real ship showing up to spoil the fun, and with things as they are, no one will question one more ship ordered back from wherever to watch the Romulans.’ He finished for Spock. ‘Good thinking, Spock, of course it’ll only work for long-range sensors.’
Spock tilted his head in his usual regal manner, and a flutter went through Jim, cutting through the building nausea and nerves. ‘I’m sure Lieutenant Sulu will be able to adequately handle the situation.’
He broke out into a small smile, the first one in hours.
---
Patrolling the Neutral Zone - USS Saltash, year 2246
Christopher Pike held his breath as the man on the medical bed in the Saltash’s sickbay ward stirred. Winona stood rigidly opposite him, the expression on her face a testament to her self-restraint. He could tell she desperately wanted to grab their involuntary passenger by the throat and demand that he answer their questions or else.
‘The ship…’ the man murmured, barely a whisper. ‘General Order Thirteen… General Order…the ship… Korben…Harper… Sarah, oh Sarah…’ With great effort, the man opened watery brown eyes and looked around the room blindly, his gaze unfocused.
‘Captain April,’ Pike said, keeping his voice even and clear, ‘you are aboard the USS Saltash. I’m the captain, Christopher Pike. Where is your ship, captain?’
The man’s eyelids drooped and on the other side of the bed, Winona’s expression flickered.
‘Robert April,’ the injured man said hoarsely, ‘my name is Robert April.’
‘Can you tell us what happened, captain?’
The man closed his eyes before opening them again, a look of confusion on his lined face. ‘Where am I? What ship?’
‘The USS Saltash.’
‘The USS Saltash,’ the man repeated weakly. Pike noticed then that the older man had a soft English accent, weak but there. Looking around, April’s gaze seemed to focus slightly. ‘Oh my God,’ he gasped, ‘the Romulans, one ship… one giant ship…’
Pike felt his stomach plummet to his feet only to bounce back up to lodge in his throat. He didn’t need to look to know that Winona had arrived at the same conclusion as him. It was the Romulan ship from all those years ago, the same ship that had attacked the Kelvin. The same ship that Jim and his people were out there hunting. Pike swallowed hard at the confirmation of what he already knew. But seriously, the future - time travel - actual temporal displacement!
Captain April’s eyes drifted to Winona’s face, widening in recognition. ‘Kirk,’ the man croaked frantically, forcing himself up from the bed, ‘Kirk - he wanted - the Romulan wanted Kirk! Captain Kirk! He won’t stop, not until - he won’t stop - he’ll attack every ship, every outpost - oh God!’
Winona leaped back when the man tried to grab her arm. Alarmed, nurses and a security officer wrestled April back onto the bed. ‘Captain Robert April!’ Winona shouted, ‘Calm down!’
Perhaps it was her tone of voice, or perhaps it was his full name and rank being called out, but the man stilled upon the bed. Slowly the nurses let him go. ‘He wants the Enterprise, I told him…’ April said weakly, his voice scratchy, ‘I told him, there is no USS Enterprise. There is no such ship, no USS Enterprise.’
‘Dammit,’ Pike murmured under his breath as pieces of the puzzle started to make sense. Jim’s genetic scan results, the things that he had said, the references he had made - there was a pattern and it seemed like Pike had just found the key. Captain April drew a harsh breath, opening his mouth as if he was going to say something else but then his body sagged back on the bed and his eyes closed.
Instantly Doctor Lee was at his patient’s side, administering a quick hypospray. ‘I’m afraid if you want to question him more, you’re going to have to wait.’
Pike shook his head. He had told them everything they needed to know. The wall intercom nearest to him whistled nosily, startling him. “Bridge to Commodore Kirk, come in.”
Winona stepped over to the intercom, ‘Kirk here - yes, Mr. Krishna?’
“No transmissions within the entire sector and for a stretch of fifteen light years along the Neutral Zone, Commodore.” There was an uncomfortable pause, “We’ve received no replies to our subspace hails on either the usual frequency range or the emergency channels.”
‘Not even Tango Outpost II?’ Pike asked. They had just stopped there not even a day ago! ‘What about Starbase 10?’
“Nothing, sir - no subspace chatter, not even non-audio, just…nothing.”
A weight settled in Pike’s stomach. ‘Helm, set a course for Tango Outpost III - maximum warp. Krishna, I want you to keep trying to get in contact with the surrounding outposts, and-’ he swallowed, ‘-transmit our ship’s final logs to HQ. It may not happen, but I want you to prepare to shut down all outgoing communications upon my command.’
There was a short silence and then, a curt “Aye, sir. Bridge out.”
Finally, he looked at Winona. ‘Your orders, commodore?’
----
En route to Vulcan: USS Enterprise, year 2246
Spock padded quietly into the non-descript cabin, uncertain if James was already asleep. He studied the lump on the top bunk for signs of movement and suppressed his disappointment when there was none - James was already asleep. After the last few days of “running amuck” Doctor McCoy had ordered him to Sickbay for petty officer’s duties. Spock did enjoy exploring this fascinating vessel with James, but he did not mind the work. It was somewhat interesting - restocking hypospray capsules, organizing and refilling emergency kits - and gave him the opportunity to use the shipboard computers, which proved to be engrossing. He had been barred from many areas, including the historical databases, but he was allowed to access the ships’ schematics which sufficiently satisfied his curiosity. Adjusting the lights to fifteen percent, Spock went to the bathroom and prepared for bed as quietly as possible so as to not disturb his friend.
He had just crawled into the lower bunk when there was a rustling of sheets on the mattress above him and a small voice whispered, ‘Spock…?’
He froze, ‘It was not my intention to wake you.’
‘No,’ James sighed sleepily, ‘I was waiting for you. Guess I fell asleep… missed you at dinner.’
He felt a brief flush of affection at the knowledge that the other boy had anticipated his company. ‘Thank you for your concern.’
‘That’s okay. What did Doctor McCoy make you do? Was it fun?’
‘It was necessary - my function was to replenish emergency medical kits with new supplies at Doctor McCoy’s instruction. The doctor has a very peculiar manner of speaking - he uses many colorful idioms, expressions, and euphemisms. It was… interesting.’
Overhead, the boy laughed a little. There was a short silence, and then the mattress above him swayed in time with James’ movements. Spock blinked in the dimness when a shadow appeared. It was James, peering at him from over the edge of his bed. ‘Did you meet the other Spock? He’s the First Officer of the ship, you know.’
‘Yes… I saw him briefly.’ Everything was just as Nero had said and yet not. This ship was commissioned in 2258, not 2245; Nero had seemed to take a perverse pleasure in taunting them with recitals of history, a history he had intended to prevent through their capture and due to his eidetic memory Spock recalled every word. The captain, James’ counterpart, was very young - almost too young. In fact, the crew was predominantly filled with young adults. He could only hypothesize that this ship was from a timeline that had already been affected by Nero’s temporal displacement.
‘I spoke to him.’
Spock breathed in quickly, an almost nauseous sensation coursing through his abdomen. The idea of James speaking to an alternate counterpart of himself, older and more experienced - it both horrified and pleased him that James should have spoken to the commander. ‘What was the nature of your conversation?’
‘You, duh - 'cause, like I said, I kinda missed you and well, he kind of is you.’ Spock could almost hear James rolling his eyes. It was meant to be a compliment, he knew, but his reactions did not agree. The odd feelings akin to nausea continued to roll around his stomach, usurping his objectivity. He loathed the idea of sharing James’ attention with another - especially the commander. But before he could dwell on these thoughts, the other boy interrupted him.
‘Did you meet the captain?’ James asked with a strange tone in his voice.
Spock thought back to the man he had met - apparently James’ older self from an alternate timeline - in Doctor McCoy’s office before he was released. ‘Briefly,’ he admitted.
‘What did you think about him?’
Spock had found the captain utterly fascinating - it was as though he had gained a further glimpse into the future. The evidence of his future relationship with James was a powerful motivation, far more potent than a Romulan’s disjointed historical references. In return, the captain had regarded him with an uncomfortable curiosity but had treated him kindly. ‘He appears to be a capable commanding officer, and greatly respected…’
Above him, James lay back down and was very quiet.
‘He looks like my dad, you know…I always knew that I looked like him, everyone told me so, but I didn’t realize…’ The other boy’s voice was brittle and so quiet that Spock strained to hear him. ‘He looks so much like in this picture mom keeps on her desk… and you know, Spock, for a moment when he got us from the ship, I thought he really was my dad - I thought…’
Spock frowned in confusion - was it not a favorable comparison to be said to resemble one’s parents?
‘In his timeline, he saved Earth from being destroyed by Nero, and became the youngest captain in Starfleet history. I know what Nero said… but you know, before that bastard told me that it was what I was gonna do, I didn’t want to go to Starfleet.’ James paused, thoughtful, ‘I never even thought about going to Starfleet; I still don’t really know if I want to go to Starfleet…’
He did not truly know if he wanted to go to Starfleet either, but at least one universe, two if the Romulan was to be believed, he had made his own independent decision to attend Starfleet. It seemed a viable alternative for him to investigate on that point alone.
‘But what if I really am supposed to go to Starfleet? Just like you’re supposed to go to Starfleet… what if I don’t and then stuff changes, and people die and… Spock…’ James’ voice trembled.
Spock felt the other boy’s anxieties rolling over his skin.
‘At first it was just wow, I’m gonna be a captain - but when you were in Sickbay, there were injured people coming in who’d stayed behind on the Narada so that we could get away… and I thought, is that who I’m expected to be one day… this…hero? But what if I can’t, what if we’re too different? And Spock, I don’t know, what if…’ James’ voice wavered then descended into silence.
Agitated, Spock fisted his covers, fighting against the urge to rush to James’ side. Ever since the incident in Sickbay, he had carefully evaded James’ playful attempts to touch him, wanting to put a stop to this sort of behavior before he returned to Vulcan. Each time James had been disappointed but always understanding. “I know it’s not cool with Vulcans,” was what James had said. Propriety was only part of the reason that he abstained from physical contact. He had touched James’ mind, his invigorating earnestness, and Spock knew that James’ kindness upon him was never given in pity or politeness, that the boy did not merely tolerate him. The experience had only intensified Spock’s attraction. It was not sexual - could not be as they were both still physically immature - but that didn’t seem to make it any less consuming.
‘Spock,’ the other boy whispered, ‘he’s a hero. And me…I’m a…I’m…just.’
Spock gave into the urge to leave his bed and climbed up to the top bunk. He was the only person present, and thus it was only logical he be the one to comfort the younger boy - at least that’s what he told himself as he crawled alongside James’ tense form and wrapped his arms around the boy as he had been held so many times before. There was a sound of surprise then James was turning around in his arms, hugging back almost desperately.
‘I am unsurprised that he is a hero… if he should possess the same qualities as you. There is no doubt in my mind that you will succeed in all that you choose to pursue.’ He whispered into the boy’s hair, the cool detachment of his tone at odds with his impassioned words. The thought of Starfleet, James and their life to-be on the Enterprise had given him strength to continue when the situation seemed utterly hopeless.
‘You really think so…?’ James asked softly, voice tinged with disbelief.
Spock nodded. The other boy’s arms tightened around him with an almost inhuman strength. Spock stroked his fingers along a bony shoulder and felt warmth engulf his entire being. They remained that way for a long time until James pulled back and stared at him in the semi-darkness.
‘When I go home, and you go back to Vulcan, will you promise to write?’
Something sharp went through him at the thought of separating but that was what would happen; James belonged with his family on Earth, while he was to resume his life upon Vulcan. Spock did not know how he could ever return to the time when his studies were his primary focus. He did not know if he could let go of this boy who had become so important to him.
‘I will endeavor to do so,’ he whispered, even as he silently vowed to write everyday if James would allow it.
With a sigh, the other boy pressed his forehead against Spock’s shoulder. ‘Stay.’ James ordered.
Spock stayed.
---
Jim accompanied Bones to the officer’s rec in silence, brain still rattling from all the noises he’d been subjected to down in Engineering. He ignored the itchy feeling on the back of his neck and pointedly didn’t look over. He didn’t believe that the doctor needed the company, nor did he believe the laments that he’d been neglecting his old pal. He knew that Bones was watching him. Evaluating his fitness, his energy levels, his handling of stress. Damn. Some days it just didn’t pay to have your Chief Medical Officer also double as one of your best friends - he could smile at everyone, joke around with Sulu and Chekov, tease Spock until the Vulcan was green in the face and Bones would still know something was wrong, the man just knew him too damn well.
He sat down at one of the tables and didn’t bother with preliminaries. ‘What’s on your mind, Bones?’
The doctor propped his chin on his fist while his other hand rested on the handle of his mug. Jim recognized the pose as Bones being contemplative before a major battle engagement, or troubled over a puzzle he’d yet to figure out. ‘So you’re just gonna drop the kids off.’
‘They’ve got enough to deal with. P’Jem is ideal - small Starfleet contingent, readily available Human and Vulcan doctors.’
‘I’m not disputing that.’ Bones looked at him carefully and shrugged, ‘But for something which is the right thing, you seem awfully upset about it.’
And you’re incredibly manipulative, Jim thought. ‘It’s not them. I could have finished him, Bones, back on the Narada. I didn’t, but I was so close to pulling the trigger.’ He ran a weary hand through his hair, reliving the scene again in his head. Spock’s weight at his side, the pistol in his hand, hot from discharge, the way he’d been shaking from adrenalin. ‘I know that it would have been the wrong thing but… probably wouldn’t have changed anything, in fact,’ Jim chuckled tonelessly, ‘might even have made the Romulans more pissed if Nero was dead but-’
‘But you can’t stop thinking about it.’ Bones finished.
Jim shrugged and swiftly changed the subject. ‘How’s Uhura?’
‘Fine, Chapel’s making sure she gets a long decent sleep - but she’ll be up and raring to go in no time. What did Spock say about the whole matter?’
‘What does Spock have to do with this?’ Jim asked, fighting down the urge to tug at his collar. Right, Bones didn’t know. He felt a little guilty about the subterfuge yet it wasn’t like anything had happened.
‘Hey, he’s the one you went back for.’ Bones gestured expansively, mistaking his guilty pause for annoyance. ‘He was there, and he saw what happened. You’re the one who’s always telling me that he’s a damn good Exec - you trust his judgment and he doesn’t seem to have a problem.’ True, Spock thought he’d done the right thing. But…
He had thought they would have more time to find a way to bring the Narada down without further risk of high casualties! He was unprepared and just…disappointed - he had underestimated his opponent, he had made a mistake that could cost lives. Jim fought the waves of self-doubt and turned his focus elsewhere. Bones had somehow managed to draw him into a conversation about his mental state - in fact throughout this whole chit-chat the man had never taken his eyes off him. Damn.
‘If you want my opinion, don’t mope, Jim. You’ll get frown lines.’
‘I’m not-’
The Chief Medical Officer raised one dark eyebrow.
‘You know Spock does that better,’ Jim said dryly. Standing, he headed for the door. Bones sputtered at him in consternation as expected but he didn’t let it bother him. So he was a little glum - what the hell did the man expect? Getting into the turbolift and slumping against the nearest wall, he punched in his destination. He was deep in thought when it slowed to pick up another passenger. Straightening, he attempted to look calm and alert, aware that crew morale depended in part upon him. The doors opened.
‘Captain,’ a familiar voice greeted.
Jim grinned broadly, the tension of having to put on a brave face draining out of his shoulders, replaced by the different yet all too familiar and not entirely unwelcome tension that had developed between them in the days since their return from the Narada. ‘Hey, Spock, late night?’
‘Yes,’ Spock said simply as he stepped into the lift, gracefully turning to face the door with his hands clasped easily behind his back. Something inside Jim warmed at the show of almost inhuman elegance. If it wasn’t for how wrung out he felt, this could be them bumping into each other on any other evening.
Jim was no stranger to attraction. It wasn't unusual for him to experience it several times over the course of a day. Hell, he spent all day surrounded by gorgeous, confident, brilliant individuals who were outstanding in their fields... it would be stranger if he didn't. But this felt different then the attraction he still felt for Bones or Uhura not to mention Nurse Chapel, Sulu and about a hundred other people he came in contact with over the course of a day. That was nothing more than an acknowledgment of their appeal. This thing with Spock went beyond that; he was drawn to the Vulcan, enamored with the smallest things (Spock’s deportment for example - how could the way a man stood distract him so much) and deeply aware that his First fitted the Vulcan stereotype of tall, slender and good-looking.
‘…for the next cycle? Your opinion would be appreciated.’
Jim blinked and realized that he’d just missed the entire question. ‘Wanna play chess?’ He blurted out, trying out to cover up his ogling. ‘Mate in six, remember? I still intend on kicking your ass.’ Almost as soon as he said it, he internally winced; it was a little inappropriate given the situation.
The Vulcan opened his mouth to no doubt accuse him of levity and then just as abruptly closed it again, a bemused light coming to his eyes. ‘I doubt that any of us are within the optimum frame of mind to engage in that pursuit - however if this is your way of implying that you wish for companionship, no such subterfuge is necessary. I have always found your company to be satisfactory.’
Keep talking like that, some part of him mentally murmured with an accompanying sigh, and I won’t be held accountable for my actions. The familiar warmth that he had experienced in Spock’s presence, even before the Vulcan’s proclamation, surged through him until he felt like doing something reckless. ‘Say, weren’t you the same guy who had me jettisoned to an ice planet?’
Rather than return with the standard quip, the Vulcan merely gazed back at him. Jim paused, uncertain. Their friendship had erased any lingering resentment or grief over the disaster of their first meeting and the tragedy surrounding it, but - way to go, JT, remind him of that day especially now!
Pinning him in place with an intent gaze, the Vulcan unclasped his hands and brought them together by stepping forward. Jim held his breath, startled by how affected he was just by their proximity. ‘Our inauspicious beginning does not accurately reflect my regard for you both as my commanding officer and my friend.’
He looked away, feeling his face heat up even more.
‘Jim…’ Spock started, gentle eyes searching his face before reaching up as if to cup his face. The unsteady hand, curled shyly, barely caressing the line of his jaw.
‘Yes…?’ He murmured. While Jim knew somewhere in his twisting gut that this couldn’t be the end, one could never be certain of the outcome for a dangerous mission. His eyes traced Spock’s features and wondered almost wistfully at all they could have achieved together, what could have become of their friendship, this, the adventures they would have had.
Sensing that the Vulcan had exhausted the limits of his daring, Jim took Spock’s uncertain hand in his own and squeezed. He was surprised when Spock responded, bringing his other hand over to cover their joined hands and stroking the bottom curve of his lower lip in a reverent gesture with the tips of two fingers. A shiver tingled through him at the sensuality.
‘I have never…’ Spock mumbled in a wistful distracted voice that almost didn’t sound anything like him, ‘I never thought that I could be so affected...’
Jim’s stomach trembled at the admission. ‘Spock,’ he started to say, but then the lift slowed. Abruptly they broke apart, hands returning to their sides. Composing himself, he nodded greetings to the crew waiting to board and shuffled to the side to make room. Across the small enclosed space of the lift, Spock’s watchful eyes rested upon him.
Jim ignored it, even after they reached Deck Five, the crew bid him goodnight and lift doors were closed, leaving him alone with Spock once more. Vulcans might be masters of self-control, but he wasn’t, and what he desired from Spock wasn’t something he wanted to share in a public corridor under security surveillance. As if something was chasing him, he headed for his quarters, painfully aware of Spock following. Of course Spock wasn’t really following him - their quarters were adjacent to one another and he'd lost count of the number of times they'd walked this route together at the close of a shift so why did this time feel so different?
‘Come in for a minute?’
Spock shook his head. ‘Unfortunately, I must decline. Goodnight…Jim.’
Disappointed, Jim muttered goodnight and practically hurled himself inside as soon as his cabin doors opened. A guilty part of himself reminded him that as this was the eve of perhaps the most decisive, certainly the most dangerous, part of their entire mission he couldn't afford to be distracted. The rest of him though was overwhelmed, giddy on the warmth that had taken up residence in his stomach. He'd been sure Spock would accept his invitation... maybe it hadn't been-
Jim crushed those thoughts before they could take hold as he stripped off his gold uniform shirt. Sleep, that’s what he needed. More than ever he needed to be well-rested for whatever was to come. Unexpectedly the comm. at his door whistled. Figuring it was Bones coming to check on him, Jim rolled his eyes and didn't bother to replace his shirt as he called out ‘Enter!’ only to exclaim ‘Spock!’ when he spun around to greet his late visitor.
Spock transfixed him with a look that sent a thrill through him. ‘Jim, may I enter?’
He mutely nodded his head, struggling with the smile that just wouldn’t go away whenever Spock was around. Hesitating for a moment, Spock stepped inside allowing the door slid shut behind him. Jim turned away, sitting down to take off his boots, struggling to ignore the fact that they were alone together in what was essentially his bedroom. Ship’s business, he reminded himself forcefully, that’s what your Exec is probably here for, stop embarrassing yourself. Besides, a little hand holding was hardly something to get excited about! Steeling himself, he tugged to straighten his black undershirt and prepared to face his Exec.
‘What is it, Spock, what -?’ The question lodged in Jim’s throat as he spun around only to find his eyes locking with the Vulcan who had somehow migrated from the door to less than two inches from him. His stomach flipped and whoosh of air escaped his lungs in a surprised gasp that was quickly stifled. ‘Spock…?’ He started softly.
Spock repeated the caress of his lower lip with two curled digits, barely skimming across the skin with the backs of his fingers. He shivered again, harder, and pressed their foreheads together, his senses attuned to Spock’s mouth.
‘This is bad idea…’ Jim breathed.
‘I concur,’ Spock said raggedly against his mouth.
Surging forward, he captured the hot mobile lips with his own in a furious kiss that quickly descended into what almost felt like a fight when Spock pushed him back, ankle hooking around his to topple him onto the bed. Jim moaned into the kiss, straining upwards to wrap his arms tightly around Spock’s head, his hands digging into the dark hair to get better purchase. Guilt and pleasure warred inside of him.
‘Wait, wait…’ Whatever else he was going to say was lost in the wet heat of Spock’s mouth as the tides were turned and he was kissed passionately, hands roaming over his body, sneaking under the hem of his shirt to skim over the flesh there. Panting, Jim pulled away with a whimper, the last shred of his sanity reminding him that he was the captain dammit, and this was not the time.
Flipping them on the bed so he was on top, he scrambled off Spock and threw himself to the far side of his bed. He squeezed his eyes shut. ‘We can’t…’ he panted into the bedspread, ‘Spock, we can’t…’ A part of him couldn’t believe he was going to say this but, ‘Spock, I care about you, I’ve wanted this but - tomorrow, we’re-’ Jim took a deep breath and tentatively looked over. The sight of Spock, disheveled and smoldering at him, was enough to make him want to jump up and scream FUCK at the top of his lungs. He quickly looked away again.
‘The mission comes first.’ He said, his voice trembling with the strain of holding himself back. ‘I can’t have this distracting me and I-’ Jim swallowed thickly, ‘I need a First Officer right now and not…’ He didn’t finish the sentence, still not entirely sure what Spock wanted to be in his life.
The Vulcan slowly sat up in the bed, his eyes fixed on the floor. ‘I have waited a long time for you,’ he confessed in a low rough voice that sent tremors down Jim’s spine, ‘it did not do me any harm then and will not do me harm now.’
Jim remained on the bed, face down as Spock got up and left his quarters through their joined bathroom. Finally alone, he buried his face in a pillow and curled up around it. Fuck, fuck, FUCK! Sleep, that’s what he needed. Yup, he thought glumly, not moping at all.
---
The Neutral Zone - USS Saltash, year 2246
Christopher Pike had been in one or two tough skirmishes with the Klingons, and so he knew what a battlefield looked like. But he still found himself wordless as he stared at the broken wreck of Tango Outpost VI drifting almost peacefully in space. It hadn’t been just attacked, the station had been utterly pulverized, holes the size of houses punctured the hull. It had been the same, for all of the outposts they had come across.
Krishna turned from his station. ‘I have attempted to raise the stations along the Neutral Zone. By the time they get the message and reply by subspace transmission, Captain…’
They’d either survive or perish, Pike realized, no matter how many messages the ship sent - if there were ships, then maybe they could evacuate and make a run for it but if not… He gripped his chair armrests harder and spun to face the helm.
‘Lieutenant Garrett, look up all outposts, Federation or otherwise, storms, anomalies and call up the manifests of any shipping that is due to pass through that area in the next thirty hours, then take the data from the Narvik and Douglas and see if you can give me a rough estimate of our target’s course and heading.’ The navigator nodded and quickly bent to her task.
Winona and he had barely had two words together since Sickbay but he’d seen the look she shot him before shuttling back to the Douglas. They had held a final situation-analysis meeting in the small briefing room via subspace conference with Karros. Headquarters couldn’t spare more ships for the search, their hands full dealing with the rapidly warming cold war with the Romulans. Their mission was simple - find the temporal incursion and stop it, with Winona being given the right to act without HQ approval at her own discretion.
It was a risky move to split up, but they had locate the Romulan vessel as soon as possible and stop it from getting closer to the populated systems, even if it meant sacrificing one of the ships in the process - the loss of life should the vessel start attacking a planet was…unacceptable. At least, Pike thought darkly, he actually knew what they were up against - a goddamn Romulan ship from the future outfitted with advanced weapons and shields. The Bendigo, Starbase 10, and the Tango Outposts - they had all been taken by surprise.
‘Sir, receiving encrypted subspace transmission…it’s the Narvik - they report that they’re en route to Zavijava.’
Pike nodded. There was nothing else for them to see here. ‘Helm, take us to the rendezvous point.’
‘Aye-aye, sir, course adjusted.’
part twenty-two
Link to other parts
A/N - oh YES ANOTHER PART DONE! I'm closer to the ending now *weeps for joy* I LOVE TOS 'The Enterprise Incident' and so I paid tribute by including an allusion to that hand-porn scene with the Romulan Commander LOL
Please review :D I always love to hear whether people enjoyed the fic or not - esp since well, this one had the making out in it that I had been working towards!!!
The briefing room doors hissed open, letting Bones, Uhura and the science officers out. The sound of his friend’s voice, speaking in his idiosyncratic Georgian manner, trying to reassure Uhura and convince her to “get some shut-eye” faded as the door closed with a decisive hiss-click.
‘…Once it starts, Captain, there’s no going back.’ Scotty muttered morosely.
Yes, he realized that. Jim looked to his First Officer’s bent head. Regret not having killed Nero when we had the chance, Spock? No, Jim thought bitterly, that wouldn’t have stopped this - that would have just left the Romulans without a leader and at least they knew Nero’s motives. ‘Spock, debrief Scotty on our backup plan.’
‘Yes, sir,’ the Vulcan intoned calmly, not looking up from his PADD. ‘Mr. Scott, I am sending the information directly to your PADD. Please examine the design, our proposed method of deployment and prepare several torpedoes to allow pillion delivery…’
Jim walked around the table and then turned, retracing his steps. In front of him, the holographic simulation was on pause at the final scene, the orange dotted lines forming the 3D representation of Vulcan’s primary sun beginning to unravel. Nero had been stockpiling trilithium, proto-matter and tekasite. If there was ever a good time to lose his professionalism, it was now. He didn’t know what tekasite was supposed to do, didn’t even know what it was but he recognized trilithium as a high-risk substance that was tightly regulated by all Federation worlds.
Theoretically, if even a little bit of pure trilithium was allowed to enter A Eridani 40, all fusion processes would cease. There would be a quantum implosion, the star would collapse under its own mass and generate a shockwave powerful enough to destroy everything within the Vulcan system. Together with the proto-matter, which was inherently unstable…Jim hit the replay button.
The simulation started again from the top. The verdict was the same: trilithium, matched with something as unstable as proto-matter, shot into the heart of Vulcan’s primary red giant equaled one hell of a big bang. A phantom pain bisected his chest and suddenly he was feeling almost faint.
Jim looked away, breathing hard. He thought he had worked through all of the after effects of that impromptu mindmeld but obviously not.
‘…Captain!’
His head snapped back around to face Spock, who was looking at him with concealed worry. ‘Captain, we have been steadily picking up anomalous readings from our communications and long-range sensor telemetry since our departure from the nebula.’
Jim straightened. ‘What do you mean?’
‘The area of space that covers P’Jem, Vulcan and Andoria is serviced by a central Starfleet-operated station, Echo 1. In the last hour, our communications have picked up a total of 1673 transmissions sent and received - an abnormally high number even for Echo 1 - and at least 275 of these transmissions were encrypted with the Bellerophon cipher. We have also successfully tapped into Starfleet Tactical’s subspace channel; they’re calling for mobilization towards the Romulan and Klingon Neutral Zone.’ Spock’s eyes darkened. ‘It appears that while our communications were inoperable within the nebula, the situation between the Romulan Empire and the Federation has worsened.’
His stomach clenched. ‘Scotty, how’s the cloak coming?’
‘Captain, if I may make a suggestion; Mr. Scott and I have been discussing an alternate possibility, to change the ship’s ID to that of a Federation vessel of this time period not currently present in the sector. As we carry all historical ship routes and manifests for the entire sector-’
‘We won’t have the real ship showing up to spoil the fun, and with things as they are, no one will question one more ship ordered back from wherever to watch the Romulans.’ He finished for Spock. ‘Good thinking, Spock, of course it’ll only work for long-range sensors.’
Spock tilted his head in his usual regal manner, and a flutter went through Jim, cutting through the building nausea and nerves. ‘I’m sure Lieutenant Sulu will be able to adequately handle the situation.’
He broke out into a small smile, the first one in hours.
---
Patrolling the Neutral Zone - USS Saltash, year 2246
Christopher Pike held his breath as the man on the medical bed in the Saltash’s sickbay ward stirred. Winona stood rigidly opposite him, the expression on her face a testament to her self-restraint. He could tell she desperately wanted to grab their involuntary passenger by the throat and demand that he answer their questions or else.
‘The ship…’ the man murmured, barely a whisper. ‘General Order Thirteen… General Order…the ship… Korben…Harper… Sarah, oh Sarah…’ With great effort, the man opened watery brown eyes and looked around the room blindly, his gaze unfocused.
‘Captain April,’ Pike said, keeping his voice even and clear, ‘you are aboard the USS Saltash. I’m the captain, Christopher Pike. Where is your ship, captain?’
The man’s eyelids drooped and on the other side of the bed, Winona’s expression flickered.
‘Robert April,’ the injured man said hoarsely, ‘my name is Robert April.’
‘Can you tell us what happened, captain?’
The man closed his eyes before opening them again, a look of confusion on his lined face. ‘Where am I? What ship?’
‘The USS Saltash.’
‘The USS Saltash,’ the man repeated weakly. Pike noticed then that the older man had a soft English accent, weak but there. Looking around, April’s gaze seemed to focus slightly. ‘Oh my God,’ he gasped, ‘the Romulans, one ship… one giant ship…’
Pike felt his stomach plummet to his feet only to bounce back up to lodge in his throat. He didn’t need to look to know that Winona had arrived at the same conclusion as him. It was the Romulan ship from all those years ago, the same ship that had attacked the Kelvin. The same ship that Jim and his people were out there hunting. Pike swallowed hard at the confirmation of what he already knew. But seriously, the future - time travel - actual temporal displacement!
Captain April’s eyes drifted to Winona’s face, widening in recognition. ‘Kirk,’ the man croaked frantically, forcing himself up from the bed, ‘Kirk - he wanted - the Romulan wanted Kirk! Captain Kirk! He won’t stop, not until - he won’t stop - he’ll attack every ship, every outpost - oh God!’
Winona leaped back when the man tried to grab her arm. Alarmed, nurses and a security officer wrestled April back onto the bed. ‘Captain Robert April!’ Winona shouted, ‘Calm down!’
Perhaps it was her tone of voice, or perhaps it was his full name and rank being called out, but the man stilled upon the bed. Slowly the nurses let him go. ‘He wants the Enterprise, I told him…’ April said weakly, his voice scratchy, ‘I told him, there is no USS Enterprise. There is no such ship, no USS Enterprise.’
‘Dammit,’ Pike murmured under his breath as pieces of the puzzle started to make sense. Jim’s genetic scan results, the things that he had said, the references he had made - there was a pattern and it seemed like Pike had just found the key. Captain April drew a harsh breath, opening his mouth as if he was going to say something else but then his body sagged back on the bed and his eyes closed.
Instantly Doctor Lee was at his patient’s side, administering a quick hypospray. ‘I’m afraid if you want to question him more, you’re going to have to wait.’
Pike shook his head. He had told them everything they needed to know. The wall intercom nearest to him whistled nosily, startling him. “Bridge to Commodore Kirk, come in.”
Winona stepped over to the intercom, ‘Kirk here - yes, Mr. Krishna?’
“No transmissions within the entire sector and for a stretch of fifteen light years along the Neutral Zone, Commodore.” There was an uncomfortable pause, “We’ve received no replies to our subspace hails on either the usual frequency range or the emergency channels.”
‘Not even Tango Outpost II?’ Pike asked. They had just stopped there not even a day ago! ‘What about Starbase 10?’
“Nothing, sir - no subspace chatter, not even non-audio, just…nothing.”
A weight settled in Pike’s stomach. ‘Helm, set a course for Tango Outpost III - maximum warp. Krishna, I want you to keep trying to get in contact with the surrounding outposts, and-’ he swallowed, ‘-transmit our ship’s final logs to HQ. It may not happen, but I want you to prepare to shut down all outgoing communications upon my command.’
There was a short silence and then, a curt “Aye, sir. Bridge out.”
Finally, he looked at Winona. ‘Your orders, commodore?’
----
En route to Vulcan: USS Enterprise, year 2246
Spock padded quietly into the non-descript cabin, uncertain if James was already asleep. He studied the lump on the top bunk for signs of movement and suppressed his disappointment when there was none - James was already asleep. After the last few days of “running amuck” Doctor McCoy had ordered him to Sickbay for petty officer’s duties. Spock did enjoy exploring this fascinating vessel with James, but he did not mind the work. It was somewhat interesting - restocking hypospray capsules, organizing and refilling emergency kits - and gave him the opportunity to use the shipboard computers, which proved to be engrossing. He had been barred from many areas, including the historical databases, but he was allowed to access the ships’ schematics which sufficiently satisfied his curiosity. Adjusting the lights to fifteen percent, Spock went to the bathroom and prepared for bed as quietly as possible so as to not disturb his friend.
He had just crawled into the lower bunk when there was a rustling of sheets on the mattress above him and a small voice whispered, ‘Spock…?’
He froze, ‘It was not my intention to wake you.’
‘No,’ James sighed sleepily, ‘I was waiting for you. Guess I fell asleep… missed you at dinner.’
He felt a brief flush of affection at the knowledge that the other boy had anticipated his company. ‘Thank you for your concern.’
‘That’s okay. What did Doctor McCoy make you do? Was it fun?’
‘It was necessary - my function was to replenish emergency medical kits with new supplies at Doctor McCoy’s instruction. The doctor has a very peculiar manner of speaking - he uses many colorful idioms, expressions, and euphemisms. It was… interesting.’
Overhead, the boy laughed a little. There was a short silence, and then the mattress above him swayed in time with James’ movements. Spock blinked in the dimness when a shadow appeared. It was James, peering at him from over the edge of his bed. ‘Did you meet the other Spock? He’s the First Officer of the ship, you know.’
‘Yes… I saw him briefly.’ Everything was just as Nero had said and yet not. This ship was commissioned in 2258, not 2245; Nero had seemed to take a perverse pleasure in taunting them with recitals of history, a history he had intended to prevent through their capture and due to his eidetic memory Spock recalled every word. The captain, James’ counterpart, was very young - almost too young. In fact, the crew was predominantly filled with young adults. He could only hypothesize that this ship was from a timeline that had already been affected by Nero’s temporal displacement.
‘I spoke to him.’
Spock breathed in quickly, an almost nauseous sensation coursing through his abdomen. The idea of James speaking to an alternate counterpart of himself, older and more experienced - it both horrified and pleased him that James should have spoken to the commander. ‘What was the nature of your conversation?’
‘You, duh - 'cause, like I said, I kinda missed you and well, he kind of is you.’ Spock could almost hear James rolling his eyes. It was meant to be a compliment, he knew, but his reactions did not agree. The odd feelings akin to nausea continued to roll around his stomach, usurping his objectivity. He loathed the idea of sharing James’ attention with another - especially the commander. But before he could dwell on these thoughts, the other boy interrupted him.
‘Did you meet the captain?’ James asked with a strange tone in his voice.
Spock thought back to the man he had met - apparently James’ older self from an alternate timeline - in Doctor McCoy’s office before he was released. ‘Briefly,’ he admitted.
‘What did you think about him?’
Spock had found the captain utterly fascinating - it was as though he had gained a further glimpse into the future. The evidence of his future relationship with James was a powerful motivation, far more potent than a Romulan’s disjointed historical references. In return, the captain had regarded him with an uncomfortable curiosity but had treated him kindly. ‘He appears to be a capable commanding officer, and greatly respected…’
Above him, James lay back down and was very quiet.
‘He looks like my dad, you know…I always knew that I looked like him, everyone told me so, but I didn’t realize…’ The other boy’s voice was brittle and so quiet that Spock strained to hear him. ‘He looks so much like in this picture mom keeps on her desk… and you know, Spock, for a moment when he got us from the ship, I thought he really was my dad - I thought…’
Spock frowned in confusion - was it not a favorable comparison to be said to resemble one’s parents?
‘In his timeline, he saved Earth from being destroyed by Nero, and became the youngest captain in Starfleet history. I know what Nero said… but you know, before that bastard told me that it was what I was gonna do, I didn’t want to go to Starfleet.’ James paused, thoughtful, ‘I never even thought about going to Starfleet; I still don’t really know if I want to go to Starfleet…’
He did not truly know if he wanted to go to Starfleet either, but at least one universe, two if the Romulan was to be believed, he had made his own independent decision to attend Starfleet. It seemed a viable alternative for him to investigate on that point alone.
‘But what if I really am supposed to go to Starfleet? Just like you’re supposed to go to Starfleet… what if I don’t and then stuff changes, and people die and… Spock…’ James’ voice trembled.
Spock felt the other boy’s anxieties rolling over his skin.
‘At first it was just wow, I’m gonna be a captain - but when you were in Sickbay, there were injured people coming in who’d stayed behind on the Narada so that we could get away… and I thought, is that who I’m expected to be one day… this…hero? But what if I can’t, what if we’re too different? And Spock, I don’t know, what if…’ James’ voice wavered then descended into silence.
Agitated, Spock fisted his covers, fighting against the urge to rush to James’ side. Ever since the incident in Sickbay, he had carefully evaded James’ playful attempts to touch him, wanting to put a stop to this sort of behavior before he returned to Vulcan. Each time James had been disappointed but always understanding. “I know it’s not cool with Vulcans,” was what James had said. Propriety was only part of the reason that he abstained from physical contact. He had touched James’ mind, his invigorating earnestness, and Spock knew that James’ kindness upon him was never given in pity or politeness, that the boy did not merely tolerate him. The experience had only intensified Spock’s attraction. It was not sexual - could not be as they were both still physically immature - but that didn’t seem to make it any less consuming.
‘Spock,’ the other boy whispered, ‘he’s a hero. And me…I’m a…I’m…just.’
Spock gave into the urge to leave his bed and climbed up to the top bunk. He was the only person present, and thus it was only logical he be the one to comfort the younger boy - at least that’s what he told himself as he crawled alongside James’ tense form and wrapped his arms around the boy as he had been held so many times before. There was a sound of surprise then James was turning around in his arms, hugging back almost desperately.
‘I am unsurprised that he is a hero… if he should possess the same qualities as you. There is no doubt in my mind that you will succeed in all that you choose to pursue.’ He whispered into the boy’s hair, the cool detachment of his tone at odds with his impassioned words. The thought of Starfleet, James and their life to-be on the Enterprise had given him strength to continue when the situation seemed utterly hopeless.
‘You really think so…?’ James asked softly, voice tinged with disbelief.
Spock nodded. The other boy’s arms tightened around him with an almost inhuman strength. Spock stroked his fingers along a bony shoulder and felt warmth engulf his entire being. They remained that way for a long time until James pulled back and stared at him in the semi-darkness.
‘When I go home, and you go back to Vulcan, will you promise to write?’
Something sharp went through him at the thought of separating but that was what would happen; James belonged with his family on Earth, while he was to resume his life upon Vulcan. Spock did not know how he could ever return to the time when his studies were his primary focus. He did not know if he could let go of this boy who had become so important to him.
‘I will endeavor to do so,’ he whispered, even as he silently vowed to write everyday if James would allow it.
With a sigh, the other boy pressed his forehead against Spock’s shoulder. ‘Stay.’ James ordered.
Spock stayed.
---
Jim accompanied Bones to the officer’s rec in silence, brain still rattling from all the noises he’d been subjected to down in Engineering. He ignored the itchy feeling on the back of his neck and pointedly didn’t look over. He didn’t believe that the doctor needed the company, nor did he believe the laments that he’d been neglecting his old pal. He knew that Bones was watching him. Evaluating his fitness, his energy levels, his handling of stress. Damn. Some days it just didn’t pay to have your Chief Medical Officer also double as one of your best friends - he could smile at everyone, joke around with Sulu and Chekov, tease Spock until the Vulcan was green in the face and Bones would still know something was wrong, the man just knew him too damn well.
He sat down at one of the tables and didn’t bother with preliminaries. ‘What’s on your mind, Bones?’
The doctor propped his chin on his fist while his other hand rested on the handle of his mug. Jim recognized the pose as Bones being contemplative before a major battle engagement, or troubled over a puzzle he’d yet to figure out. ‘So you’re just gonna drop the kids off.’
‘They’ve got enough to deal with. P’Jem is ideal - small Starfleet contingent, readily available Human and Vulcan doctors.’
‘I’m not disputing that.’ Bones looked at him carefully and shrugged, ‘But for something which is the right thing, you seem awfully upset about it.’
And you’re incredibly manipulative, Jim thought. ‘It’s not them. I could have finished him, Bones, back on the Narada. I didn’t, but I was so close to pulling the trigger.’ He ran a weary hand through his hair, reliving the scene again in his head. Spock’s weight at his side, the pistol in his hand, hot from discharge, the way he’d been shaking from adrenalin. ‘I know that it would have been the wrong thing but… probably wouldn’t have changed anything, in fact,’ Jim chuckled tonelessly, ‘might even have made the Romulans more pissed if Nero was dead but-’
‘But you can’t stop thinking about it.’ Bones finished.
Jim shrugged and swiftly changed the subject. ‘How’s Uhura?’
‘Fine, Chapel’s making sure she gets a long decent sleep - but she’ll be up and raring to go in no time. What did Spock say about the whole matter?’
‘What does Spock have to do with this?’ Jim asked, fighting down the urge to tug at his collar. Right, Bones didn’t know. He felt a little guilty about the subterfuge yet it wasn’t like anything had happened.
‘Hey, he’s the one you went back for.’ Bones gestured expansively, mistaking his guilty pause for annoyance. ‘He was there, and he saw what happened. You’re the one who’s always telling me that he’s a damn good Exec - you trust his judgment and he doesn’t seem to have a problem.’ True, Spock thought he’d done the right thing. But…
He had thought they would have more time to find a way to bring the Narada down without further risk of high casualties! He was unprepared and just…disappointed - he had underestimated his opponent, he had made a mistake that could cost lives. Jim fought the waves of self-doubt and turned his focus elsewhere. Bones had somehow managed to draw him into a conversation about his mental state - in fact throughout this whole chit-chat the man had never taken his eyes off him. Damn.
‘If you want my opinion, don’t mope, Jim. You’ll get frown lines.’
‘I’m not-’
The Chief Medical Officer raised one dark eyebrow.
‘You know Spock does that better,’ Jim said dryly. Standing, he headed for the door. Bones sputtered at him in consternation as expected but he didn’t let it bother him. So he was a little glum - what the hell did the man expect? Getting into the turbolift and slumping against the nearest wall, he punched in his destination. He was deep in thought when it slowed to pick up another passenger. Straightening, he attempted to look calm and alert, aware that crew morale depended in part upon him. The doors opened.
‘Captain,’ a familiar voice greeted.
Jim grinned broadly, the tension of having to put on a brave face draining out of his shoulders, replaced by the different yet all too familiar and not entirely unwelcome tension that had developed between them in the days since their return from the Narada. ‘Hey, Spock, late night?’
‘Yes,’ Spock said simply as he stepped into the lift, gracefully turning to face the door with his hands clasped easily behind his back. Something inside Jim warmed at the show of almost inhuman elegance. If it wasn’t for how wrung out he felt, this could be them bumping into each other on any other evening.
Jim was no stranger to attraction. It wasn't unusual for him to experience it several times over the course of a day. Hell, he spent all day surrounded by gorgeous, confident, brilliant individuals who were outstanding in their fields... it would be stranger if he didn't. But this felt different then the attraction he still felt for Bones or Uhura not to mention Nurse Chapel, Sulu and about a hundred other people he came in contact with over the course of a day. That was nothing more than an acknowledgment of their appeal. This thing with Spock went beyond that; he was drawn to the Vulcan, enamored with the smallest things (Spock’s deportment for example - how could the way a man stood distract him so much) and deeply aware that his First fitted the Vulcan stereotype of tall, slender and good-looking.
‘…for the next cycle? Your opinion would be appreciated.’
Jim blinked and realized that he’d just missed the entire question. ‘Wanna play chess?’ He blurted out, trying out to cover up his ogling. ‘Mate in six, remember? I still intend on kicking your ass.’ Almost as soon as he said it, he internally winced; it was a little inappropriate given the situation.
The Vulcan opened his mouth to no doubt accuse him of levity and then just as abruptly closed it again, a bemused light coming to his eyes. ‘I doubt that any of us are within the optimum frame of mind to engage in that pursuit - however if this is your way of implying that you wish for companionship, no such subterfuge is necessary. I have always found your company to be satisfactory.’
Keep talking like that, some part of him mentally murmured with an accompanying sigh, and I won’t be held accountable for my actions. The familiar warmth that he had experienced in Spock’s presence, even before the Vulcan’s proclamation, surged through him until he felt like doing something reckless. ‘Say, weren’t you the same guy who had me jettisoned to an ice planet?’
Rather than return with the standard quip, the Vulcan merely gazed back at him. Jim paused, uncertain. Their friendship had erased any lingering resentment or grief over the disaster of their first meeting and the tragedy surrounding it, but - way to go, JT, remind him of that day especially now!
Pinning him in place with an intent gaze, the Vulcan unclasped his hands and brought them together by stepping forward. Jim held his breath, startled by how affected he was just by their proximity. ‘Our inauspicious beginning does not accurately reflect my regard for you both as my commanding officer and my friend.’
He looked away, feeling his face heat up even more.
‘Jim…’ Spock started, gentle eyes searching his face before reaching up as if to cup his face. The unsteady hand, curled shyly, barely caressing the line of his jaw.
‘Yes…?’ He murmured. While Jim knew somewhere in his twisting gut that this couldn’t be the end, one could never be certain of the outcome for a dangerous mission. His eyes traced Spock’s features and wondered almost wistfully at all they could have achieved together, what could have become of their friendship, this, the adventures they would have had.
Sensing that the Vulcan had exhausted the limits of his daring, Jim took Spock’s uncertain hand in his own and squeezed. He was surprised when Spock responded, bringing his other hand over to cover their joined hands and stroking the bottom curve of his lower lip in a reverent gesture with the tips of two fingers. A shiver tingled through him at the sensuality.
‘I have never…’ Spock mumbled in a wistful distracted voice that almost didn’t sound anything like him, ‘I never thought that I could be so affected...’
Jim’s stomach trembled at the admission. ‘Spock,’ he started to say, but then the lift slowed. Abruptly they broke apart, hands returning to their sides. Composing himself, he nodded greetings to the crew waiting to board and shuffled to the side to make room. Across the small enclosed space of the lift, Spock’s watchful eyes rested upon him.
Jim ignored it, even after they reached Deck Five, the crew bid him goodnight and lift doors were closed, leaving him alone with Spock once more. Vulcans might be masters of self-control, but he wasn’t, and what he desired from Spock wasn’t something he wanted to share in a public corridor under security surveillance. As if something was chasing him, he headed for his quarters, painfully aware of Spock following. Of course Spock wasn’t really following him - their quarters were adjacent to one another and he'd lost count of the number of times they'd walked this route together at the close of a shift so why did this time feel so different?
‘Come in for a minute?’
Spock shook his head. ‘Unfortunately, I must decline. Goodnight…Jim.’
Disappointed, Jim muttered goodnight and practically hurled himself inside as soon as his cabin doors opened. A guilty part of himself reminded him that as this was the eve of perhaps the most decisive, certainly the most dangerous, part of their entire mission he couldn't afford to be distracted. The rest of him though was overwhelmed, giddy on the warmth that had taken up residence in his stomach. He'd been sure Spock would accept his invitation... maybe it hadn't been-
Jim crushed those thoughts before they could take hold as he stripped off his gold uniform shirt. Sleep, that’s what he needed. More than ever he needed to be well-rested for whatever was to come. Unexpectedly the comm. at his door whistled. Figuring it was Bones coming to check on him, Jim rolled his eyes and didn't bother to replace his shirt as he called out ‘Enter!’ only to exclaim ‘Spock!’ when he spun around to greet his late visitor.
Spock transfixed him with a look that sent a thrill through him. ‘Jim, may I enter?’
He mutely nodded his head, struggling with the smile that just wouldn’t go away whenever Spock was around. Hesitating for a moment, Spock stepped inside allowing the door slid shut behind him. Jim turned away, sitting down to take off his boots, struggling to ignore the fact that they were alone together in what was essentially his bedroom. Ship’s business, he reminded himself forcefully, that’s what your Exec is probably here for, stop embarrassing yourself. Besides, a little hand holding was hardly something to get excited about! Steeling himself, he tugged to straighten his black undershirt and prepared to face his Exec.
‘What is it, Spock, what -?’ The question lodged in Jim’s throat as he spun around only to find his eyes locking with the Vulcan who had somehow migrated from the door to less than two inches from him. His stomach flipped and whoosh of air escaped his lungs in a surprised gasp that was quickly stifled. ‘Spock…?’ He started softly.
Spock repeated the caress of his lower lip with two curled digits, barely skimming across the skin with the backs of his fingers. He shivered again, harder, and pressed their foreheads together, his senses attuned to Spock’s mouth.
‘This is bad idea…’ Jim breathed.
‘I concur,’ Spock said raggedly against his mouth.
Surging forward, he captured the hot mobile lips with his own in a furious kiss that quickly descended into what almost felt like a fight when Spock pushed him back, ankle hooking around his to topple him onto the bed. Jim moaned into the kiss, straining upwards to wrap his arms tightly around Spock’s head, his hands digging into the dark hair to get better purchase. Guilt and pleasure warred inside of him.
‘Wait, wait…’ Whatever else he was going to say was lost in the wet heat of Spock’s mouth as the tides were turned and he was kissed passionately, hands roaming over his body, sneaking under the hem of his shirt to skim over the flesh there. Panting, Jim pulled away with a whimper, the last shred of his sanity reminding him that he was the captain dammit, and this was not the time.
Flipping them on the bed so he was on top, he scrambled off Spock and threw himself to the far side of his bed. He squeezed his eyes shut. ‘We can’t…’ he panted into the bedspread, ‘Spock, we can’t…’ A part of him couldn’t believe he was going to say this but, ‘Spock, I care about you, I’ve wanted this but - tomorrow, we’re-’ Jim took a deep breath and tentatively looked over. The sight of Spock, disheveled and smoldering at him, was enough to make him want to jump up and scream FUCK at the top of his lungs. He quickly looked away again.
‘The mission comes first.’ He said, his voice trembling with the strain of holding himself back. ‘I can’t have this distracting me and I-’ Jim swallowed thickly, ‘I need a First Officer right now and not…’ He didn’t finish the sentence, still not entirely sure what Spock wanted to be in his life.
The Vulcan slowly sat up in the bed, his eyes fixed on the floor. ‘I have waited a long time for you,’ he confessed in a low rough voice that sent tremors down Jim’s spine, ‘it did not do me any harm then and will not do me harm now.’
Jim remained on the bed, face down as Spock got up and left his quarters through their joined bathroom. Finally alone, he buried his face in a pillow and curled up around it. Fuck, fuck, FUCK! Sleep, that’s what he needed. Yup, he thought glumly, not moping at all.
---
The Neutral Zone - USS Saltash, year 2246
Christopher Pike had been in one or two tough skirmishes with the Klingons, and so he knew what a battlefield looked like. But he still found himself wordless as he stared at the broken wreck of Tango Outpost VI drifting almost peacefully in space. It hadn’t been just attacked, the station had been utterly pulverized, holes the size of houses punctured the hull. It had been the same, for all of the outposts they had come across.
Krishna turned from his station. ‘I have attempted to raise the stations along the Neutral Zone. By the time they get the message and reply by subspace transmission, Captain…’
They’d either survive or perish, Pike realized, no matter how many messages the ship sent - if there were ships, then maybe they could evacuate and make a run for it but if not… He gripped his chair armrests harder and spun to face the helm.
‘Lieutenant Garrett, look up all outposts, Federation or otherwise, storms, anomalies and call up the manifests of any shipping that is due to pass through that area in the next thirty hours, then take the data from the Narvik and Douglas and see if you can give me a rough estimate of our target’s course and heading.’ The navigator nodded and quickly bent to her task.
Winona and he had barely had two words together since Sickbay but he’d seen the look she shot him before shuttling back to the Douglas. They had held a final situation-analysis meeting in the small briefing room via subspace conference with Karros. Headquarters couldn’t spare more ships for the search, their hands full dealing with the rapidly warming cold war with the Romulans. Their mission was simple - find the temporal incursion and stop it, with Winona being given the right to act without HQ approval at her own discretion.
It was a risky move to split up, but they had locate the Romulan vessel as soon as possible and stop it from getting closer to the populated systems, even if it meant sacrificing one of the ships in the process - the loss of life should the vessel start attacking a planet was…unacceptable. At least, Pike thought darkly, he actually knew what they were up against - a goddamn Romulan ship from the future outfitted with advanced weapons and shields. The Bendigo, Starbase 10, and the Tango Outposts - they had all been taken by surprise.
‘Sir, receiving encrypted subspace transmission…it’s the Narvik - they report that they’re en route to Zavijava.’
Pike nodded. There was nothing else for them to see here. ‘Helm, take us to the rendezvous point.’
‘Aye-aye, sir, course adjusted.’
part twenty-two
Link to other parts
A/N - oh YES ANOTHER PART DONE! I'm closer to the ending now *weeps for joy* I LOVE TOS 'The Enterprise Incident' and so I paid tribute by including an allusion to that hand-porn scene with the Romulan Commander LOL
Please review :D I always love to hear whether people enjoyed the fic or not - esp since well, this one had the making out in it that I had been working towards!!!