fic arc: Lessons (4/4) (K/S)
Title: There's Nothing Like You and I (K/S)
Rating: R
Warnings/Spoilers: Possible abuse of Shakespeare?/none
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters mentioned herein, nor am I making a profit from this work of fiction.
Summary: Jim learns that nothing will keep him and Spock apart for long.
Spock had always known that he was a singularity. The only half-Vulcan, half-Human being in existence, and for good reason. Spock's conception and birth had not been a simple matter, and his childhood on Vulcan was anything but standard. Gazing up at the stars at night, Spock would imagine lives on other planets, in other star systems. And though it was not logical, he would imagine a place where he was not an exception. Where he was accepted unconditionally by the people around him because his was not a singularity, but instead a part of the norm.
For about a month or so Spock had allowed himself to believe that he had found that place aboard the Enterprise, but this... this could not be "normal", even by Human standards. Jim was seated on a throne of silk and flora, looking vaguely embarrassed but for the grin spread across his face.
All Spock had wanted for much of his childhood, and repressed wanting for most of his adulthood, was to fit in, and yet he had managed to land himself in a career and on a Starship where standing out was a daily occurrence.
The natives were confused, that much was apparent. They thought Jim was their High God, descended from the stars, or at least that was as much as Spock had allowed himself to assume. The Universal Translator was not programmed to speak for these people, which was their only "saving grace," as Jim might say, in this Prime Directive debacle: at least no one had known about these people, and not just the members of the Enterprise.
Spock watched from the back of the crowd, largely ignored ever since Jim smiled at these highly impressionable people. Which was not an unprecedented occurrence, given the pure charisma Jim exuded, but never had the ensuing events taken such a drastic turn.
Jim was making significant eye contact with him, trying to convey a message of the 'Oh God, help me' variety. Spock was, however, unwilling to attempt a rescue at the risk of upsetting the people who had placed Jim on his throne. The most favorable scenario would be for Jim to remain calm and charming until his new devotees had retired for the evening, at which time Spock, Jim and the rest of the landing party would beam back to the ship. Until then, Jim would just have to endure the attention. Somehow, Spock was certain he would survive.
It took another thirty-four hours before Spock was kneeling over his sleeping captain. His face, already considered attractive by many, was dusted lightly with a beautiful gold powder and it smeared easily under Spock's fingertips. Jim inhaled deeply, turning his face into Spock's touch and rolling onto his back.
"Hey," he rasped, eyes blinking open slowly. "I thought you'd never show up."
"That was an illogical thought," Spock admonished gently.
Jim smiled and Spock could feel his humor, and confidence in Spock's ability to save the day, push through their points of contact. Under that he could also feel Jim's acknowledgment of the 'moment'.
They were curious things, these 'moments'. Spock had learned to identify them based on social cues so subtle one might not think Humans capable of them. From what he could deduce -- as Jim had not explained and he had not asked -- 'moments' were points in everyday life when a display of emotional attachment, affection, and or desire may be expressed by one or both parties involved. The fascinating thing about 'moments', however, was that if they were not acted upon, everyday life continued on as though they had never existed at all. It was perhaps unfair that Spock had been purposely not acting on these 'moments' purely because they were intriguing, but he wished to continue to study their appearance.
The 'moments' had begun three weeks ago after the 26th anniversary of Jim's birthday, and had since increased in frequency exponentially. What was most fascinating about the 'moments' was that they were not 'awkward' -- an entirely different phenomenon that Jim had explained many times and Spock was finally starting to be able to identify accurately. Based on Jim's coaching on the subject, one might presume 'moments' to be 'awkward' for those involved, but instead every time a 'moment' passed without action on either of their parts Spock could sense only anticipation and pleasure from Jim.
It was highly illogical, and yet Spock could not find sufficient motivation to cease his experiment. His hypothesis: that some day soon Jim's patience and control would expire and Spock would experience first hand the aftermath of action taken during a 'moment'. It was for this scientifically anthropological reason alone that he allowed himself to echo Jim's clear feelings of anticipation every time a 'moment' came and went.
"Maybe," Jim said, his voice low and teasing. 'Teasing' was another phenomenon that Spock had become more familiar with than he may have originally wished. Nyota had introduced him to the act, but never had she employed it as much as Jim did, not even when they were romantically involved.
"If you are finished here, Captain, the landing party is quite ready to return to the ship." Jim smirked gently and it was possible that Spock had been so exposed to 'teasing' that he had begun to employ it himself.
"Yeah," Jim agreed, sitting up and successively releasing himself and Spock from the 'moment', "Let's get out of here."
Back aboard the ship, Jim ordered the entire landing party 'to bed' immediately.
"That goes for you too, Mr. Spock," the captain said once they were alone in the shuttle bay.
"And you, Captain?"
"Hell yes," he laughed, cutting his eyes to Spock, "as soon as I shower, anyway." He swiped the back of his hand across his forehead and it came away smeared with gold.
They rode the lift to the officers' quarters and Spock anticipated the presence of another 'moment' in approximately 3.5 Earth minutes.
"Well this is me," Jim said once they had exited the lift, gesturing down the hall towards his quarters. "We can write up a report tomorrow when I'm less gold and have had the chance to sleep in an actual bed."
"I will write my portion tonight so as to expedite the process," Spock offered.
"Or," Jim said with a teasing smile, "you can get some sleep -- since I know that you probably didn't on the planet -- and we can write it together tomorrow."
"Is that what you would prefer?" Spock asked. The tension between them was nearly palpable as Jim shifted closer to Spock.
"Yes," he answered, completely serious.
Spock conceded with a soft, "Very well," and Jim smiled.
"Thanks," he said and Spock knew somehow that he was thanking him for more than his compliance on this matter.
"No thanks are required," Spock responded. Jim shifted again, and the 'moment' was upon them: heavy and all-encompassing. Spock returned Jim's stare as it moved past social eye-contact and into gazing. And then Jim's eyes darted down to his mouth. Spock's reaction was intense enough to force a quick inhale of breath. Jim heard it and rocked back a little, his tongue darting out in a way that usually indicated nervousness.
Spock had allowed himself to presume early on that it was some form of nerves that have kept a man so confident as Jim Kirk from acting upon their 'moments,' but no evidence had come up until now. It was possible, Spock thought suddenly, that Jim was waiting for some sort of non-verbal sign from Spock indicating that emotional and even romantic expressions would be welcomed by the half-Vulcan. He had, of course, given no such indication, choosing instead to study the Human 'moments'.
He was considering what such a sign would look like when Jim shifted again, closer still, and Spock's thought process ended abruptly. Being this near to Jim was like being near one of Earth's oceans: cooler in temperature than Spock thought he would enjoy, but refreshing and captivating nonetheless. From here Spock could see the light sun spots across the bridge of Jim's nose and cheek bones. He looked young, younger than he had in months and Spock's eyes involuntarily move down to Jim's lips. They were parted and damp still.
"Spock..." Jim said, like he was about to ask a question, but just then another voice interrupted.
"Bridge to Captain Kirk," Chekov's voice sounded from Jim's hip. The captain blinked and his face performed a complicated expression of emotion, of which Spock was only able to identify a few.
"Kirk here," he said into his communicator, shifting away from Spock minutely.
"Captain, the long-range sensors have picked up gravitational indications of a planet in the exact location Commander Spock calculated last week. We will arrive at the planet in twelve hours, should we maintain our current warp speed."
"Very good, Chekov," Jim said, smiling faintly at Spock, "maintain current velocity."
"Aye, Captain."
Jim put his communicator away and when his eyes returned to Spock's they were full of humor and silent acceptance.
"I'm, uh," he started to say, but laughed quietly and shifted back again, "I'll see you tomorrow, Spock."
"Goodnight, Captain," was all Spock could think to say before Jim was gone.
- - -
This was the shit Jim Kirk lived for. He stood on the transporter pad next to Spock, heart pounding the way it always did before an away mission.
Initial scans had confirmed this unnamed planet as Class M, and the readings that had come back with the probe promised temperate weather and lush foliage, at least in the area they were beaming down to.
"Ready when you are, Scotty," he said, sneaking a glace at Spock. It had taken some pretty persuasive arguing to get Spock to break regulations and join the away team with him, but surprisingly less than Jim was prepared to present. There was meaning to be dug up there, but he let it be for now, just glad that the awkward from last night hadn't carried over to this morning. Not that Spock could pick up on an awkward situation over a comfortable one, but Jim held hope for him still.
"Aye, Captain," Scotty replied, engaging the transporter systems, "Have a nice trip."
They touched down in the middle of a dense forest, full of activity and sounds. Immediately, Spock began scanning their surroundings as the rest of the away team spread out in a quick security check. Jim counted his men, all accounted for, and grinned at the nearest security personnel.
"Shall we?" he asked, not bothering to contain his glee.
Thompson smiled back, surprisingly non-patronizing for a man ten years Jim's senior, and motioned for Jim to lead the way.
The going was slow through the thick foliage of the alien forest, but the activity around them more than made up for their lack of traveling progress, as Spock was stopping to scan something every two seconds anyway.
"Fascinating," Spock murmured to himself as he scanned the exposed roots of some flora that kind of resembled a tree. If you squinted your eyes and didn't look at them individually.
Jim smiled. Spock was always fun to watch when he was enraptured and focused so intently on one thing. He could be so single-minded sometimes, obsessive, even. Secretly, Jim attributed it to Spock's Human half and thought him all the more attractive whenever Spock accidentally let his obsessions show.
Spock glanced up, catching Jim's stare and raised a questioning eyebrow.
"Hm?" Jim asked innocently, looking around like it had been someone else staring and not him. Spock blinked impassively and returned his attention to the tree, but Jim knew this dance and translated accordingly: You are strange to me, but pleasing as well.
They were Spock's own words, actually, and Jim liked to mentally attach them to each and every non-verbal exchange be and Spock had. It made him feel less like a coward for not having made a move on Spock yet and more like he was purposely playing hard-to-get.
Jim wondered briefly if Spock was familiar with the concept of playing hard-to-get and then decided that now was really not the time to worry about what Spock thought of their almost-relationship. What mattered was that there was something between them; something new and frightening, but mostly exciting and one of these days Jim was going to find the courage to actually do something about it.
Until then, he'd be content with reminding himself that Spock thought he was 'pleasing' and try not to make their missed moments any more awkward than they had to be.
No sooner had he conceded that there were probably more pressing things to worry about than a shout sounded from near by followed shortly by the sounds of someone running off into the forest ahead of them.
Jim took off in the direction of the shouting, Spock right behind him. They crashed into a clearing just in time to see Thompson running into the foliage after... Jim stopped and stared, not quite sure what was going on.
"Did you just see..." he trailed off, not quite sure what he had seen himself, but Spock nodded anyway. They exchanged a brief look and then began running again, across the clearing and into the forest where they had seen the senior security officer disappear after something vaguely Human, but for the green skin and translucent wings.
Both Thompson and the creature were gone, however, and did not reappear no matter how far they walked, or how loudly Jim yelled. It would have been a simpler thing to use their communicators, but those had mysteriously disappeared, something that neither Jim nor Spock could remember happening.
"Captain," Spock said after nearly an hour of searching. "I suggest we return to the clearing we came upon earlier and build a fire for the night. We do not know what lives in the forest or what may awaken after nightfall."
Jim sighed, worried and angry, but he could see the logic behind Spock's suggestion.
"Alright," he agreed, turning back to Spock. "Can you get us back there?"
"Of course," Spock said gently and if Jim didn't know better, he might think Spock was trying to make him feel better. He smiled weakly and fell into step with his first officer.
- - -
Oberon opened and closed the strange devise, enjoying the chirping sounds it made.
"You say you took this from aliens?" he asked the changeling, who nodded eagerly. "It's been awhile since we had visitors. Not since you were a baby, in fact."
The changeling did not know what his King spoke of, but nodded anyway.
"Perhaps," the King continued, flipping the devise open again to hear it's noises, "we should celebrate. An anniversary of sorts. To commemorate those fateful days." He turned and addressed the woman to his left. "What do you say, my dear?"
She smirked and gathered the changeling into her lap, brushing its long hair out of its eyes. "So long as there are no donkeys involved, you may do what you wish. You always do."
Oberon laughed. How right she was.
"Call Puck for me, boy," he said to the changeling who jumped out of Titania's lap. "And tell him to bring the flower. We're going to have some fun."
- - -
When the away team failed to check in at the appointed time, Leonard talked Scotty into putting him on the second landing party. In case Jim or someone else was hurt. Not because Nyota was going too.
She'd called him out on his 'Southern chivalry' before, but this was more than wanting her to be safe. People had disappeared and whatever had forced them to miss the check-in was probably still a threat down there. These were the arguments Leonard was prepared to make when Nyota shot him a look after volunteering himself, but after a beat she redirected her attention and left it at that.
The beaming process was unpleasant, per usual, but it deposited them into a clearing in the forest, which was -- conveniently enough -- where the most life forms had been located. The number had been fluctuating from two, to six, to three and back to two, while the second away team had been preparing to beam down, and unfortunately none of them could be confirmed as Starfleet officers without the communicator frequencies which had been disturbingly absent.
"Alright, spread out people. We search his clearing first, and then head into the forest. Phasers set to stun; keep your communicators at hand and open," the security officer ordered and Leonard wanted to protest this splitting up business, but Nyota was already walking away.
Leonard watched where she was heading, but he wasn't going to follow her. Someone should probably head in that direction too, though.
Spock woke to the soft sounds of someone calling his name. He was surprised for a moment that he had slept at all, but the surprise was quickly overrun by confusion and mild disgust at whatever substance seemed to be covering his eyelids. He wiped them off carefully and then blinked his eyes open to see Nyota hurrying towards him in the dark.
Spock's world narrowed to the sight of her kneeling next to him, smiling beautifully and asking if he was okay. And though he could hear Jim stirring awake next to him, Spock could not help but lean forward and kiss her gently.
Jim thought that maybe he was still dreaming. He'd had dreams like this during the beginning of his captaincy, back when he'd thought Spock hated him and probably had the perfect relationship with Uhura. Neither of those things turned out to be true, but no one would know that now, watching Spock kiss Uhura like his life depended on it. Uhura, for her part, seemed too stunned to do much more than freeze in place and wait for the half-Vulcan to pull back.
"Spock?" Jim heard himself ask pathetically. Spock broke the kiss but did not move far.
"Nyota," Spock whispered so softly and full of love that Jim's knee-jerk reaction was to roll his eyes and make gagging noises like he was back in elementary school. He didn't, mostly because he was to busy trying not to punch Spock in the fucking face, but it was a close call.
"What the fuck is going on?" Jim demanded, finally gaining Spock's attention. The half-Vulcan looked at him impassively and Jim hadn't been subject to that much indifference from his first officer since... well, since he and Uhura had broken up. "Spock... what the hell?"
"I would have thought that much was obvious, Captain," Spock answered, his voice flat and so straight-forward it was almost painful to hear. "I no longer desire a romantic relationship with you." Then he turned back to Uhura and said, seriously as you please, "Nyota I am highly interested in restarting our relationship, perhaps even including the sexual congress you so desired before its original termination."
Jim wanted to laugh. And Uhura, judging from the look on her face, wanted to cry.
"Spock, I don't..." she trailed off, obviously distressed, and Bones picked that exact moment to show up.
"You found them!" he said, jogging up and immediately running his scanner over Jim's torso. An awkward silence descended which Bones became aware of gradually. He looked up from his tricorder slowly, almost warily, and looked at each of them in turn. "What's going on?"
Both Jim and Uhura turned to look at Spock who was glaring at Bones.
"Doctor, I understand that you have been pursuing a romantic and sexual relationship with Lt. Uhura, but your attentions are no longer appreciated or desired. Please desist."
"What?" Bones growled, while Uhura stood up and took a step away from the group.
"Spock," she said, reprimand and bewilderment clear in her voice. "What's gotten into you?"
Jim watched from the ground as Spock and Bones stood too, and began arguing over Uhura as she vehemently interjected that she could fight her own battles and would they both just shut up? He still wanted to laugh, but more than that he wanted to get up and walk into the forest and never come out. Embarrassment burned under the misery of hearing that voice in the back of his head say 'I told you so'. He'd been treating Spock like he thought he knew how his first felt about him, and now he could see the stupidity in that. What kind of moron projected their own feelings on to a Vulcan and came out of it without a broken heart?
"I'm gonna go," he said to no one, and took off towards the voices across the clearing.
"Captain!" Lt. Tolu exclaimed, his ears perking forward in greeting. "Where is Thompson?"
"I'm not sure, but we'll find him. How many did you beam down with?" Jim asked, slipping into his role with only a little difficulty.
"Five, sir."
"Alright, get these people back on the Enterprise. I don't want anyone else disappearing on me. We'll scan for the rest of the landing party from orbit."
"Aye, sir," the security officer answered, already flipping open his communicator.
It was then that everything started to go to Hell. Out of no where, a hooved creature jumped between them and plucked the communicator right out of Tolu's hand, startling them both when it cackled loudly and began to run off. At the same time Uhura shouted, "Spock, no!" and Jim turned just in time to see Spock hoist Uhura onto his shoulder, Bones crumpled to the ground at his feet.
Those field exercises had apparently paid off after all, because while his instinct screamed at him to go after Spock, his brain forced him to pull out his phaser and stun the creature before it could make off with their link to the Enterprise.
Once the communicator was safely back in his hands, Jim whipped around to stun Spock, but he was gone.
"Fuck!" Jim cursed, flipping open the communicator. "Scotty!"
"Aye, Captain?" Scotty answered, obviously confused as to why he was being yelled at. Jim tried to take a calming breath.
"I need you to beam up all life-forms in this clearing. Now." He cut the connection and ten seconds later, gold lights began to circle everyone in the clearing, including the stunned creature at his feet.
"Get this thing to the brig," he demanded once they were back on the Enterprise, kicking at the unconscious creature. "And get McCoy to sick bay. Scotty I want you to locate any other life forms within a six kilometer radius of where we beamed down this morning, and where you beamed us up from just now."
"Aye, Captain," Scotty answered, wisely not asking any questions before getting to work.
Jim watched Tolu lift the unconscious creature with ease and remove it from the transporter room as McCoy's staff lifted him onto a gurney.
“Notify me as soon as he’s awake,” Jim demanded, already following Tolu to the brig. He studied the creature his security officer was carrying as they walked, recognizing it somehow, but unwilling to jump to conclusions just yet. It was amazing, really, that when Spock wasn’t around Jim’s demeanor changed just enough to compensate. It meant he had grown as a person and a leader. Which was great, he was sure, but he preferred having Spock around anyway.
“Does this creature look familiar to you?” he asked Tolu as soon as the Rastin had activated the brig chamber shields.
“No, sir,” he answered, but that wasn’t a shock. If Tolu had recognized it, Jim probably wouldn’t have and every time Jim looked at the thing he got a distinct sense that he’d seen it before.
“Alright,” Jim said, pulling out his communicator and taking a quick snap shot of the alien. “Alert me as soon as it wakes.”
Tolu nodded and assumed parade rest; Jim considered telling him to relax, but at a time like this, he actually appreciated the Rastin’s constant professionalism. It was an excellent reminder of what he needed to emulate right now: unwavering control and professionalism. He almost smiled to himself as he made his way to engineering -- what he needed right now was Spock.
“Scotty,” he called as soon as he entered the transporter room, “please tell me you have good news.”
“Aye, sir,” Scotty smiled, “I’m picking up several life form readings, just waiting on you to say where to begin.”
Jim rounded the console to see the readings for himself.
“Let’s start here,” he said, selecting a small area of the map that contained two life readings. One was running hotter than the other and Jim could only hope that it was Spock.
He was tempted to just jump on the transporter pad and go alone, but if Spock was here, he never would have allowed that. Instead he called for two security officers and strapped a phaser to his waist.
They were ready to go soon enough, and Jim said ‘energize’, his heart pounding just a little faster than was usual for away missions.
Touch-down was easy, and Jim immediately pulled his weapon. He motioned for the security officers with him to do the same, set to stun.
“If you see Commander Spock, stun him,” Jim said lowly as they began to move through the brush. “I don’t care if he looks and acts completely normal, stun him and get him back on the Enterprise. Understood?”
“Yes sir,” his men said in unison. Normally Jim would have laughed at that, but he was channeling Spock and Spock certainly wouldn’t have laughed. He checked the tricorder he’d brought along instead.
“This way,” he said, and began to creep towards the life-readings.
They heard the voices long before they saw either person, mostly because Uhura was shouting at what he presumed to be Spock.
“-what the hell is going on, Spock, but you need to stop! We’re not together anymore for a reason!”
Jim began to run until he could hear Spock too.
“-opposed to our separation originally. Secondly, Doctor McCoy is a volatile and prejudiced Human at best; he is not an ideal mate for an extraordinary Human being just as yourself. I, on the other hand,-”
Jim stunned him before he could finish his, surely logical, counter argument.
“Captain!” Uhura exclaimed, partially incredulous, but mostly relieved.
Jim ignored her in favor of kneeling next to Spock and pulling out his communicator. “Kirk to Enterprise,” he said, while checking for a pulse. Of course it was there, but Jim felt himself relax as soon as he was able to put his hand to it. “Are you alright?” he asked, directing his attention to his communications officer. She nodded just as Scotty’s voice came over the link.
“Ready to beam up?”
“Yes; all five of us,” Jim answered. He looked down at Spock and added, “And make sure there’s someone in the transporter room who can carry Spock to the brig. I doubt stunning him will have helped the situation any.”
- - -
The first thing Spock noticed after waking on the floor of a brig cell was the unbearable gaping feeling in his chest at being parted from Nyota. There was a part of his brain that acknowledged the illogic of such a sentiment -- of any sentiment, really, but this one especially -- but such worries seemed to pale in comparison to the extent of his suffering.
“Lieutenant Tolu,” he said, standing as the officer turned to face him. “Please lower the cell shield; I am in a much more stable condition now.”
Tolu gave him a quick once-over and Spock attempted to look as convincing and intimidating as possible, but Tolu had been a Big-Man on his home world and as such was not easily intimidated, if at all. It was something Spock often appreciated about the officer: it meant less time spent on preoccupation over the proceedings of away missions, when the captain was with the Rastin.
Spock replayed that particular thought process. The only person’s well-being with whom he was currently concerned was Nyota’s; why did he feel such a strangely grateful appreciation for a man who he knew he could count on to protect the captain?
“Pardon me, Commander, but I find that difficult to believe. Currently, you appear quite ill and confused.” Tolu’s words pulled Spock from his mental musings. “Please excuse me while I notify the captain of your condition.”
Spock nodded, finding it difficult to be upset with the Rastin’s perpetual politeness.
“Tolu to the bridge.”
Spock sat on the bunk and took in his surroundings with careful attention to detail. He had never been on this side of the brig cells before.
“Kirk here,” came the captain’s voice and Spock’s mind swam with a sudden onslaught of confusion and dizziness.
“Commander Spock is awake and unwell,” Tolu said.
There was as quiet curse from the Rastin’s communicator and then the captain said, “I’ll be right there.”
“Jim,” Spock whispered, trying to massage the ache from his head; something was wrong in his own mind, but he couldn’t think past the muddling confusion to correct it.
On the bridge, Jim was just about to step into the turbo lift when Lt. Uhura called for his attention.
“I’m receiving a transmission,” she said, not taking her eyes from the console screen, “but I don’t immediately recognize the language. It is coming from the planet, though.”
“Let me know as soon as you can decipher it,” Jim ordered and left the con with Sulu.
He tried not to feel too upset or anxious. It was pointless, really, because whenever something happened to Spock it was Jim’s automatic reaction to feel upset and anxious. There was also an element of sick nervousness which was new, but understandable and somewhat embarrassing: caring for someone so much that their disapproval or rejection made you ill was kind of pathetic. And worrying. Jim had come to the tentative conclusion -- partly out of confidence in Spock, and partly out of egotistical self-confidence -- that something had happened to the half-Vulcan on the planet to cause his sudden shift in behavior. But if what had caused Spock’s actions really was just a change of heart in the Vulcan -- Jim snorted mentally at his own idiom choice -- then he wasn’t quite sure how he was going to make it out of this one wholly sane.
That realization was fairly mortifying, but he could analyze it later. Right now he had to deal with the way Spock was rubbing at his temples like his head was killing him.
“Spock?” he called softly, and not quite as professionally as he’d have liked.
Spock’s head lifted and he said, “Jim,” before pain flashed through his eyes and he dropped his head to his hands again.
“Spock!” Jim’s hands smacked into the cell force-field before he could think to simply take it down. Fortunately all he had to do was nod at Tolu, who was already waiting at the controls, and then he was kneeling in front of Spock, trying to peer at his face. “Spock, what’s wrong?”
“I do not know,” Spock gritted out, eyes clenched shut against the pain. Jim put his hands on either side of Spock’s face and rubbed his thumbs against the his temples soothingly.
In this position, he had the perfect view of Spock’s face when Uhura’s voice came over Jim’s communicator with news about the transmission: the pain immediately cleared from his face and he stood, shoving Jim to the ground and stealing his communicator in one swift movement.
“Spock!” Jim shouted, trying to force as much authority into his voice as he could over the hurt. Spock faltered only enough to send Tolu flying across the brig as he took over the cell controls and raised the force-field in front of Jim. “Spock! Damnit!” Jim yelled, fists slamming into the shield again, this time from the other side of the cell.
Tolu recovered quickly and soon enough both he and Jim were chasing after Spock who was presumably headed for the bridge.
Alone in the brig, Puck smiled to himself. “How interesting,” he said, and stepped out of the cell that’s force-field had been accidentally lowered in all of the commotion. He closed his eyes and when they opened again, he was in his old guise as Robin Goodfellow, this time dressed as a Starfleet officer. He smiled to himself mischievously and took off to join the mayhem.
The bridge, when he arrived, was pure chaos. The pointy-eared one whose eyes he had treated stood with his arm around the waist of a beautiful woman dressed in red. She appeared quite distressed around the eyes, but her posture was straight and her fists were clenched as though anger was not very far off.
The captain, whose part was that of the slighted lover in this rendition, was trying to negotiate everyone present into some state of calm, while he himself was barely holding onto his own emotional controls.
There were about ten different people trying to speak at once and from what he could tell, about five of those voices had something of relative importance to say.
“-his form and left the brig just after you did, sir...” one of the helmsmen was saying, his young face distressed.
“-willing to help Spock if we bring him and the prisoner to the planet’s surface,” the woman was shouting at the captain, who was trying to pay attention to her, and about three other crewmen at once.
“Fine,” the captain said to the woman, grabbing ahold of a man in blue who looked mad enough to turn his anger physical, “just get him to the transporter room. Chekov, pull up an image of what the prisoner looks like now and broadcast it to the ship. Tolu, start at the brig and work your way out. Bones, calm the fuck down!”
The man in blue ceased struggling, but didn’t stop scowling at the pointy-eared one as the woman in red put a hand on his chest and tried to convince him to go to the transporter room with her.
“Broadcasting now, captain,” the helmsman said, and before Puck could stop himself he was laughing at his own image plastered across every console.
The bridge became eerily quiet as Puck laughed and, having given himself away anyway, he quickly reverted to his own, more comfortable form.
“Who is it that’s negotiating my return, then?” he asked, chuckling again at the bugged-out eyes of those around him. “I highly doubt it’s His or Her Majesties. It’s the boy, isn’t it?”
When no one bothered to answer, Puck rolled his eyes and moved back to the lift. The strange one with iridescent skin and big ears who had kept watch over him in his prison cell shadowed his movement, a weapon pointed casually at Puck’s chest.
“What boy?” the captain asked in the now silence of the bridge.
“The Queen’s boy. The King’s paige. My apprentice. Knowing him he’s probably gathered the rest of your lost men too. Sentimental little thing, he is.”
The captain’s cold eyes bore into Puck’s for several long moments and then he turned to the strange one with the weapon and nodded. Puck’s arm was seized and he was marched ceremoniously to a new level of wherever he was.
“Scotty,” the captain was saying behind him as Puck was forced up on to a platform, “If we’re lucky we’ll be trading this one for the three men who are still on the planet’s surface. If that’s the case, I want those three and Spock and Uhura beamed up first. Tolu, McCoy and I will come up next.”
“Aye, captain,” the man answered, already tapping at his console.
Puck almost wanted to laugh at the image they made on this platform, so serious and yet barely holding on to their careful composure. Oberon was going to love this tale, Puck was sure.
The first thing Jim noticed after touching down in the meadow from the night before was his three security officers and the relieved looks and all their faces.
The next was the small blue child with four arms and slanting eyes that made Jim shiver involuntarily. It made a loud trilling noise and launched itself at their hoofed prisoner. He caught the child easily and smiled, though it looked like he was trying hard not to.
“Now you’ll undo what you did to Spock,” Jim said, no room to misinterpret his words as a question.
“Unfortunately, no,” the creature said, and Jim’s temper spiked, “you’ll get that honor.”
“What?” Jim spat, confusion not helping to temper his anger.
He looked at the child who presented him with a white flower from nowhere.
“Wait until he sleeps and then squeeze this flower’s juice onto his eyes. When he wakes he will be without the influence which he is under now.”
Behind him, Spock murmured something to Uhura, but Jim couldn’t focus on that right now. “And if that doesn’t work?” Jim asked, not really wanting to think about what the fuck he would do then.
“It will,” the creature said, smirking infuriatingly. “You’ll just have to trust my word.”
Jim stared him down for several seconds before stepping up to the creature, right into his personal space. “If it doesn’t work,” he said lowly, “I will hunt you down. On that, you can trust my word.”
The creature laughed and Jim stepped back.
“It was an honor to meet you, Captain Kirk,” he said, and then he was gone, bounding for the tree-line with the child still in his arms. One small blue hand waved at them and then they were gone.
Jim stared for a beat and then looked back at his crew members. They looked tired and wary, just like he felt.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said with a smile he didn’t feel and hailed Scotty.
Spock sat on the edge of Nyota’s bed, awaiting her return. She had been called away by the captain and Spock was attempting very hard not to think about what they could be discussing, because every time he thought of Jim his head hurt unbearably.
It had taken much arguing and quiet assurance from Nyota -- which Spock had not been pleased with -- until McCoy had left them alone for the night. He was exhausted, but he would not sleep until he knew Nyota had returned to him.
He was idly listing prime numbers in his mind to keep from thinking of what the captain could want with her when the door chimed and then opened.
Nyota smiled at him and crossed the room to place a white flower on the bedside table.
“Are you tired?” she asked, and Spock reached out to draw her nearer. She was stiff in his embrace, but rested her hands in his hair eventually.
“Yes,” Spock answered. “Will you join me?”
Her gaze flew to the flower and back to him, and she nodded. “I’ll share my bed, but just for sleep, Spock. I’m very tired.”
Spock nodded, in understanding if not complete agreement of her restrictions. She was, no doubt, wary of him still. Though their separation had been ultimately mutually agreed upon, he was the one who had introduced the topic, to her initial disagreement.
Spock waited for her to enter her bathroom before undressing and moving under the bedclothes.
When she joined him several minutes later, Spock’s final thoughts before sleep were that he would simply have to prove his love in the most basic and obvious ways possible. What those ways would be, he would meditate on later.
She watched Spock wake from across the room, at her desk. Immediately, his hands went to his eyes, and he wiped the flower’s juice from his eyelids before opening them slowly.
She saw the moment he remembered everything. It looked painful and not, she knew, for her sake. When he sat up and found her, she smiled sympathetically.
“How are you feeling?”
Spock hesitated, still inherently uncomfortable with that particular question.
“The sate of my mind and... other faculties seem to have return to normal,” he answered eventually, like talking about his heart was a metaphor that was beneath him. That was one thing she’d never miss.
“Good,” she responded, and waited.
“Nyota,” he said after he had examined everything in the room and had no choice but to look at her again, “I apologize for my actions and words while under the influence of the alien substance. I will understand if you do not wish to be near me.”
She laughed and crossed the room to sit at the edge of her own bed. “Oh, don’t flatter yourself,” she said as gently as possibly, smiling to show him she was teasing. “I’m fine, Spock. If there’s anyone you should be apologizing to and then avoiding it’s Leonard.”
A distasteful look crossed Spock’s face. “Indeed,” he said, and she knew no such apology would be forthcoming, though the advice of avoidance would certainly be taken into consideration.
“Also,” she said, even more gently, “You should probably go see Jim.”
Spock’s eyes fell to the bed spread and never had she seen a more tragic expression of regret than his face in that moment. Her heart broke for him and she gathered him into a hug, making quiet soothing noises that he probably couldn’t interpret.
“I know for a fact he’s not upset with you, Spock,” she said softly. “He’s only worried that this will have somehow changed your mind about you and him.”
Spock’s head shot up from her shoulder and he looked confused for all of three seconds before seeming to remember that 1) Nyota was very good at getting the captain to speak his mind candidly and 2) there was hardly ever any logic to the emotions and worries of Humans.
“I must-” he began, but Nyota was already standing and handing him his folded clothes.
Once he was dressed, he turned back to her and said, “Thank you, Nyota,” with enough emotion it nearly brought tears to her eyes.
“You’re welcome,” she answered and watched him leave, a quickness to his steps that was usually never there.
She took a moment to sigh and then dressed. Ten minutes later, she was standing in the doorway of Leonard’s office, being steadily ignored.
He remained hunched over his desk even as she stepped inside and let the door slide shut behind her. It was a little ridiculous, really, how much she put up with from the men aboard this ship.
“Leonard,” she said softly, carding her fingers through his disheveled hair. He stilled and after a moment leaned back in his chair to look up at her. There were dark circles under his eyes, as though he had not yet gone to bed.
He cleared his throat and asked, “How is he?” in a rough voice.
“He’s fine. Left almost as soon as he’d woken up to go find Jim,” she answered, brushing her thumb under one of his tired eyes. He sighed and let his eyes flutter shut. Like he had been honestly worried; like he thought that she would jump at any chance to be with Spock again.
“Do you want to talk about this?” she asked, but of course he shook his head no. She smiled and tried again, “Do you mind if I say a few words, then?”
He hesitated but shook his head again. She eyed his chair briefly before sliding onto his lap. His eyes flew open and he locked his arm immediately around her waist to keep her from falling off.
“Spock and I had a conversation before we broke up,” she began, forcing him to keep eye contact with a gently hand, “And in the end, the decision was mutual. He was going to leave for the colony, to help repopulate his race, but he stayed. Not for me, but for the ship. For his position. For Jim, really, because by then things had changed so much. There was no way we could go back to what we were. I had accepted that by the time you gathered the courage to ask me to dinner.” He grumbled quietly, but the tension was leaving his eyes. “I wasn’t looking for a rebound partner, and I certainly wasn’t looking for some Spock-replacement. I’m not with you because you remind me of him, or because you’re nothing like him. I’m with you because you’re sweet and smart and annoyingly chivalrous, and because I know that you’ll be there for me when I need you.”
Leonard swallowed and cut his eyes to the side. He was nearly as bad with strong emotion as Spock, though she’d never tell him that for fear of incurring his haughty wrath.
“I, uh...” he tried to start, but looked up at her again instead and there was something there that made Nyota sigh and lean down to press her lips to his. His fingers found their way into her hair and she had to wrap her arms around his neck to keep from sliding to the ground.
“You need a bigger chair,” she laughed against his lips and he laughed too before standing abruptly, one arm under her legs and the other at her back. She laughed again, startled and loud, and let him set her down on his desk.
When she looked up at him after clearing the space underneath her, his throat was working like maybe he was going to say something after all.
“Nyota...” he began gruffly, threading his fingers through hers. His mouth worked wordlessly for several moments and then he looked up. “I don’t know if now is the time to say this, but I wanted to warn you that... that I’m falling in love with you,” he finished so softly it was almost a whisper.
There were probably words that were better suited for this situation, but at the moment all Nyota could do was smile. Based on Leonard’s reaction to her smile, however -- a devastating kiss that ended in a heap on the desk -- he’d understood her just fine.
Jim was not in his quarters. Spock was slightly relieved because they needed to exchange words and such an exchange would most likely not take place in a room where Jim’s bed was so readily accessible. They had not shared a Human nor even a Vulcan kiss yet, but if he was being honest about the emotions roiling in his chest at the moment, such expressions of desire and more were not far off.
The ship computer in the corridor informed him that the captain was currently on observation deck 6, a guess Spock probably could have made himself had he stopped to think properly. Instead he quickly made his way to the nearest lift.
Outside the observation deck, Spock took one steadying breath and then stepped up to the doors, expecting them to slide open soundlessly.
They did not.
Spock worried for a moment that this was a sign that the captain wished to be alone, no matter who came to see him. As captain, however, Jim would have been able to program entrance specifics; if he wanted only Spock to be able to enter, the computer would keep everyone else out.
Slowly, Spock raised his hand and placed it against the biometrics scanner. Almost before he could hope, the red light flashed green and the doors opened for him.
Jim turned at the sound of the door closing again behind Spock and they stared at each other until Jim broke the silence with an unsteady, “Hey.”
Spock was across the room and had Jim pressed against the observation railing within a matter of seconds. He held their bodies mere inches apart as he dipped his head and placed the most Human of kisses on Jim’s lips.
After a startled pause of 1.3 Earth seconds, Jim made a soft sound and surged forward, wrapping his arms around Spock’s neck and shoulders.
Spock became aware, slowly, of his own name being whispered between them with every exhale Jim breathed into his mouth. Spock slowed the frantic kisses to a steady press of lips and then gently broke the kiss.
“Jim, I would like to apologize-” he tried to stay, but was cut off by another kiss.
“’s okay,” Jim whispered. “Wasn’t your fault. Just kiss me.”
Spock almost protested but then Jim’s hand cupped his neck and he could feel the relief coming off him in waves: relief that the second flower had worked, relief that he had his first officer back, relief that Spock still wanted this from him, relief that the regret from never having done this sooner was gone now. There were still words Spock needed to say, but he realized now that they could wait. Jim was never one for words when actions would suffice, anyway.
He took half a step closer to Jim and the relief in Jim’s mind made a quick turn-around to unrelenting and irrepressible want. It pulsed into Spock’s mind like his own heartbeat and soon they were matched in strength and the way they moved Spock’s blood to anywhere but his mind. He regretted, now, that he had not found Jim in his quarters. Despite his best intentions, they had done very little talking, as he should have predicted regardless of the location.
“Jim,” he began, meaning to suggest a move to either of their quarters, but with the name his own hips pushed forward into the hard heat of Jim’s groin and he ended up greedily swallowing Jim’s groan instead.
The situation quickly dissolved from there until they were both on the floor and carefully, slowly, pressing up and into each other again and again. Jim gently licked and then bit at his ear, and Spock’s smooth thrusting faltered to a stop.
Jim’s low laughter in his ear cut through the haze of lust that had clouded his mind and Spock pulled back just enough to see Jim’s darkened eyes.
The ‘moment’ that followed was unlike any other that Spock had experienced with Jim. It was more, somehow -- heavier and strangely powerful. Jim cut his eyes away and swallowed.
“So I’m glad you came to your senses,” he said, his voice deep and rasping. Spock raised an eyebrow but did not comment on the way the continuing sense of pure relief pushing through from Jim to Spock at ever point of contact undermined those flippantly spoken words. “If that flower hadn’t worked, my next plan of action was to be even more charming and seductive so as to win you over again. But then half of the Enterprise probably would have fallen for me too, and that would have just been awkward.”
Spock briefly considered playing along -- yet another Human phenomenon that he was marginally better at than teasing -- but said instead, “I am sure you would have succeeded in your endeavor and dealt with the subsequent awkwardness appropriately.”
Jim’s face split into a grin and he rolled his eyes even as he laughed with genuine amusement. “I’m sure,” he agreed, his voice full of laughter and shoved up with one side of his hips, pitching Spock over and onto his back.
He gazed down at Spock before saying, “Well you’re stuck with me now, you know,” in that same flippant tone.
“Yes,” Spock answered, just as seriously as he had before. Jim swallowed audibly again but did not look away this time.
Instead he smiled and leaned down to gently press his lips to Spock’s.
Spock had known it before -- much earlier, in fact, when they were still just captain and first officer -- but he was struck by the thought now that there was nothing he would not do for this man. More often than not, that meant and would mean saving him from unfortunate diplomatic and illogically dangerous predicaments. But he knew too, just as surely as he knew his own name, that Jim would do nothing short of the same for him.
They were an unlikely pair, he and his captain. They were not the norm; not by Human standards and certainly not by Vulcan expectations. And they may not have fit in on their home worlds, but they fit together and Spock found that to be more fulfilling than any normalcy could ever bring him.
There was nothing like the pair that he and Jim Kirk made together. They were a singularity, and for that Spock was immeasurably glad.
Rating: R
Warnings/Spoilers: Possible abuse of Shakespeare?/none
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters mentioned herein, nor am I making a profit from this work of fiction.
Summary: Jim learns that nothing will keep him and Spock apart for long.
Spock had always known that he was a singularity. The only half-Vulcan, half-Human being in existence, and for good reason. Spock's conception and birth had not been a simple matter, and his childhood on Vulcan was anything but standard. Gazing up at the stars at night, Spock would imagine lives on other planets, in other star systems. And though it was not logical, he would imagine a place where he was not an exception. Where he was accepted unconditionally by the people around him because his was not a singularity, but instead a part of the norm.
For about a month or so Spock had allowed himself to believe that he had found that place aboard the Enterprise, but this... this could not be "normal", even by Human standards. Jim was seated on a throne of silk and flora, looking vaguely embarrassed but for the grin spread across his face.
All Spock had wanted for much of his childhood, and repressed wanting for most of his adulthood, was to fit in, and yet he had managed to land himself in a career and on a Starship where standing out was a daily occurrence.
The natives were confused, that much was apparent. They thought Jim was their High God, descended from the stars, or at least that was as much as Spock had allowed himself to assume. The Universal Translator was not programmed to speak for these people, which was their only "saving grace," as Jim might say, in this Prime Directive debacle: at least no one had known about these people, and not just the members of the Enterprise.
Spock watched from the back of the crowd, largely ignored ever since Jim smiled at these highly impressionable people. Which was not an unprecedented occurrence, given the pure charisma Jim exuded, but never had the ensuing events taken such a drastic turn.
Jim was making significant eye contact with him, trying to convey a message of the 'Oh God, help me' variety. Spock was, however, unwilling to attempt a rescue at the risk of upsetting the people who had placed Jim on his throne. The most favorable scenario would be for Jim to remain calm and charming until his new devotees had retired for the evening, at which time Spock, Jim and the rest of the landing party would beam back to the ship. Until then, Jim would just have to endure the attention. Somehow, Spock was certain he would survive.
It took another thirty-four hours before Spock was kneeling over his sleeping captain. His face, already considered attractive by many, was dusted lightly with a beautiful gold powder and it smeared easily under Spock's fingertips. Jim inhaled deeply, turning his face into Spock's touch and rolling onto his back.
"Hey," he rasped, eyes blinking open slowly. "I thought you'd never show up."
"That was an illogical thought," Spock admonished gently.
Jim smiled and Spock could feel his humor, and confidence in Spock's ability to save the day, push through their points of contact. Under that he could also feel Jim's acknowledgment of the 'moment'.
They were curious things, these 'moments'. Spock had learned to identify them based on social cues so subtle one might not think Humans capable of them. From what he could deduce -- as Jim had not explained and he had not asked -- 'moments' were points in everyday life when a display of emotional attachment, affection, and or desire may be expressed by one or both parties involved. The fascinating thing about 'moments', however, was that if they were not acted upon, everyday life continued on as though they had never existed at all. It was perhaps unfair that Spock had been purposely not acting on these 'moments' purely because they were intriguing, but he wished to continue to study their appearance.
The 'moments' had begun three weeks ago after the 26th anniversary of Jim's birthday, and had since increased in frequency exponentially. What was most fascinating about the 'moments' was that they were not 'awkward' -- an entirely different phenomenon that Jim had explained many times and Spock was finally starting to be able to identify accurately. Based on Jim's coaching on the subject, one might presume 'moments' to be 'awkward' for those involved, but instead every time a 'moment' passed without action on either of their parts Spock could sense only anticipation and pleasure from Jim.
It was highly illogical, and yet Spock could not find sufficient motivation to cease his experiment. His hypothesis: that some day soon Jim's patience and control would expire and Spock would experience first hand the aftermath of action taken during a 'moment'. It was for this scientifically anthropological reason alone that he allowed himself to echo Jim's clear feelings of anticipation every time a 'moment' came and went.
"Maybe," Jim said, his voice low and teasing. 'Teasing' was another phenomenon that Spock had become more familiar with than he may have originally wished. Nyota had introduced him to the act, but never had she employed it as much as Jim did, not even when they were romantically involved.
"If you are finished here, Captain, the landing party is quite ready to return to the ship." Jim smirked gently and it was possible that Spock had been so exposed to 'teasing' that he had begun to employ it himself.
"Yeah," Jim agreed, sitting up and successively releasing himself and Spock from the 'moment', "Let's get out of here."
Back aboard the ship, Jim ordered the entire landing party 'to bed' immediately.
"That goes for you too, Mr. Spock," the captain said once they were alone in the shuttle bay.
"And you, Captain?"
"Hell yes," he laughed, cutting his eyes to Spock, "as soon as I shower, anyway." He swiped the back of his hand across his forehead and it came away smeared with gold.
They rode the lift to the officers' quarters and Spock anticipated the presence of another 'moment' in approximately 3.5 Earth minutes.
"Well this is me," Jim said once they had exited the lift, gesturing down the hall towards his quarters. "We can write up a report tomorrow when I'm less gold and have had the chance to sleep in an actual bed."
"I will write my portion tonight so as to expedite the process," Spock offered.
"Or," Jim said with a teasing smile, "you can get some sleep -- since I know that you probably didn't on the planet -- and we can write it together tomorrow."
"Is that what you would prefer?" Spock asked. The tension between them was nearly palpable as Jim shifted closer to Spock.
"Yes," he answered, completely serious.
Spock conceded with a soft, "Very well," and Jim smiled.
"Thanks," he said and Spock knew somehow that he was thanking him for more than his compliance on this matter.
"No thanks are required," Spock responded. Jim shifted again, and the 'moment' was upon them: heavy and all-encompassing. Spock returned Jim's stare as it moved past social eye-contact and into gazing. And then Jim's eyes darted down to his mouth. Spock's reaction was intense enough to force a quick inhale of breath. Jim heard it and rocked back a little, his tongue darting out in a way that usually indicated nervousness.
Spock had allowed himself to presume early on that it was some form of nerves that have kept a man so confident as Jim Kirk from acting upon their 'moments,' but no evidence had come up until now. It was possible, Spock thought suddenly, that Jim was waiting for some sort of non-verbal sign from Spock indicating that emotional and even romantic expressions would be welcomed by the half-Vulcan. He had, of course, given no such indication, choosing instead to study the Human 'moments'.
He was considering what such a sign would look like when Jim shifted again, closer still, and Spock's thought process ended abruptly. Being this near to Jim was like being near one of Earth's oceans: cooler in temperature than Spock thought he would enjoy, but refreshing and captivating nonetheless. From here Spock could see the light sun spots across the bridge of Jim's nose and cheek bones. He looked young, younger than he had in months and Spock's eyes involuntarily move down to Jim's lips. They were parted and damp still.
"Spock..." Jim said, like he was about to ask a question, but just then another voice interrupted.
"Bridge to Captain Kirk," Chekov's voice sounded from Jim's hip. The captain blinked and his face performed a complicated expression of emotion, of which Spock was only able to identify a few.
"Kirk here," he said into his communicator, shifting away from Spock minutely.
"Captain, the long-range sensors have picked up gravitational indications of a planet in the exact location Commander Spock calculated last week. We will arrive at the planet in twelve hours, should we maintain our current warp speed."
"Very good, Chekov," Jim said, smiling faintly at Spock, "maintain current velocity."
"Aye, Captain."
Jim put his communicator away and when his eyes returned to Spock's they were full of humor and silent acceptance.
"I'm, uh," he started to say, but laughed quietly and shifted back again, "I'll see you tomorrow, Spock."
"Goodnight, Captain," was all Spock could think to say before Jim was gone.
- - -
This was the shit Jim Kirk lived for. He stood on the transporter pad next to Spock, heart pounding the way it always did before an away mission.
Initial scans had confirmed this unnamed planet as Class M, and the readings that had come back with the probe promised temperate weather and lush foliage, at least in the area they were beaming down to.
"Ready when you are, Scotty," he said, sneaking a glace at Spock. It had taken some pretty persuasive arguing to get Spock to break regulations and join the away team with him, but surprisingly less than Jim was prepared to present. There was meaning to be dug up there, but he let it be for now, just glad that the awkward from last night hadn't carried over to this morning. Not that Spock could pick up on an awkward situation over a comfortable one, but Jim held hope for him still.
"Aye, Captain," Scotty replied, engaging the transporter systems, "Have a nice trip."
They touched down in the middle of a dense forest, full of activity and sounds. Immediately, Spock began scanning their surroundings as the rest of the away team spread out in a quick security check. Jim counted his men, all accounted for, and grinned at the nearest security personnel.
"Shall we?" he asked, not bothering to contain his glee.
Thompson smiled back, surprisingly non-patronizing for a man ten years Jim's senior, and motioned for Jim to lead the way.
The going was slow through the thick foliage of the alien forest, but the activity around them more than made up for their lack of traveling progress, as Spock was stopping to scan something every two seconds anyway.
"Fascinating," Spock murmured to himself as he scanned the exposed roots of some flora that kind of resembled a tree. If you squinted your eyes and didn't look at them individually.
Jim smiled. Spock was always fun to watch when he was enraptured and focused so intently on one thing. He could be so single-minded sometimes, obsessive, even. Secretly, Jim attributed it to Spock's Human half and thought him all the more attractive whenever Spock accidentally let his obsessions show.
Spock glanced up, catching Jim's stare and raised a questioning eyebrow.
"Hm?" Jim asked innocently, looking around like it had been someone else staring and not him. Spock blinked impassively and returned his attention to the tree, but Jim knew this dance and translated accordingly: You are strange to me, but pleasing as well.
They were Spock's own words, actually, and Jim liked to mentally attach them to each and every non-verbal exchange be and Spock had. It made him feel less like a coward for not having made a move on Spock yet and more like he was purposely playing hard-to-get.
Jim wondered briefly if Spock was familiar with the concept of playing hard-to-get and then decided that now was really not the time to worry about what Spock thought of their almost-relationship. What mattered was that there was something between them; something new and frightening, but mostly exciting and one of these days Jim was going to find the courage to actually do something about it.
Until then, he'd be content with reminding himself that Spock thought he was 'pleasing' and try not to make their missed moments any more awkward than they had to be.
No sooner had he conceded that there were probably more pressing things to worry about than a shout sounded from near by followed shortly by the sounds of someone running off into the forest ahead of them.
Jim took off in the direction of the shouting, Spock right behind him. They crashed into a clearing just in time to see Thompson running into the foliage after... Jim stopped and stared, not quite sure what was going on.
"Did you just see..." he trailed off, not quite sure what he had seen himself, but Spock nodded anyway. They exchanged a brief look and then began running again, across the clearing and into the forest where they had seen the senior security officer disappear after something vaguely Human, but for the green skin and translucent wings.
Both Thompson and the creature were gone, however, and did not reappear no matter how far they walked, or how loudly Jim yelled. It would have been a simpler thing to use their communicators, but those had mysteriously disappeared, something that neither Jim nor Spock could remember happening.
"Captain," Spock said after nearly an hour of searching. "I suggest we return to the clearing we came upon earlier and build a fire for the night. We do not know what lives in the forest or what may awaken after nightfall."
Jim sighed, worried and angry, but he could see the logic behind Spock's suggestion.
"Alright," he agreed, turning back to Spock. "Can you get us back there?"
"Of course," Spock said gently and if Jim didn't know better, he might think Spock was trying to make him feel better. He smiled weakly and fell into step with his first officer.
- - -
Oberon opened and closed the strange devise, enjoying the chirping sounds it made.
"You say you took this from aliens?" he asked the changeling, who nodded eagerly. "It's been awhile since we had visitors. Not since you were a baby, in fact."
The changeling did not know what his King spoke of, but nodded anyway.
"Perhaps," the King continued, flipping the devise open again to hear it's noises, "we should celebrate. An anniversary of sorts. To commemorate those fateful days." He turned and addressed the woman to his left. "What do you say, my dear?"
She smirked and gathered the changeling into her lap, brushing its long hair out of its eyes. "So long as there are no donkeys involved, you may do what you wish. You always do."
Oberon laughed. How right she was.
"Call Puck for me, boy," he said to the changeling who jumped out of Titania's lap. "And tell him to bring the flower. We're going to have some fun."
- - -
When the away team failed to check in at the appointed time, Leonard talked Scotty into putting him on the second landing party. In case Jim or someone else was hurt. Not because Nyota was going too.
She'd called him out on his 'Southern chivalry' before, but this was more than wanting her to be safe. People had disappeared and whatever had forced them to miss the check-in was probably still a threat down there. These were the arguments Leonard was prepared to make when Nyota shot him a look after volunteering himself, but after a beat she redirected her attention and left it at that.
The beaming process was unpleasant, per usual, but it deposited them into a clearing in the forest, which was -- conveniently enough -- where the most life forms had been located. The number had been fluctuating from two, to six, to three and back to two, while the second away team had been preparing to beam down, and unfortunately none of them could be confirmed as Starfleet officers without the communicator frequencies which had been disturbingly absent.
"Alright, spread out people. We search his clearing first, and then head into the forest. Phasers set to stun; keep your communicators at hand and open," the security officer ordered and Leonard wanted to protest this splitting up business, but Nyota was already walking away.
Leonard watched where she was heading, but he wasn't going to follow her. Someone should probably head in that direction too, though.
Spock woke to the soft sounds of someone calling his name. He was surprised for a moment that he had slept at all, but the surprise was quickly overrun by confusion and mild disgust at whatever substance seemed to be covering his eyelids. He wiped them off carefully and then blinked his eyes open to see Nyota hurrying towards him in the dark.
Spock's world narrowed to the sight of her kneeling next to him, smiling beautifully and asking if he was okay. And though he could hear Jim stirring awake next to him, Spock could not help but lean forward and kiss her gently.
Jim thought that maybe he was still dreaming. He'd had dreams like this during the beginning of his captaincy, back when he'd thought Spock hated him and probably had the perfect relationship with Uhura. Neither of those things turned out to be true, but no one would know that now, watching Spock kiss Uhura like his life depended on it. Uhura, for her part, seemed too stunned to do much more than freeze in place and wait for the half-Vulcan to pull back.
"Spock?" Jim heard himself ask pathetically. Spock broke the kiss but did not move far.
"Nyota," Spock whispered so softly and full of love that Jim's knee-jerk reaction was to roll his eyes and make gagging noises like he was back in elementary school. He didn't, mostly because he was to busy trying not to punch Spock in the fucking face, but it was a close call.
"What the fuck is going on?" Jim demanded, finally gaining Spock's attention. The half-Vulcan looked at him impassively and Jim hadn't been subject to that much indifference from his first officer since... well, since he and Uhura had broken up. "Spock... what the hell?"
"I would have thought that much was obvious, Captain," Spock answered, his voice flat and so straight-forward it was almost painful to hear. "I no longer desire a romantic relationship with you." Then he turned back to Uhura and said, seriously as you please, "Nyota I am highly interested in restarting our relationship, perhaps even including the sexual congress you so desired before its original termination."
Jim wanted to laugh. And Uhura, judging from the look on her face, wanted to cry.
"Spock, I don't..." she trailed off, obviously distressed, and Bones picked that exact moment to show up.
"You found them!" he said, jogging up and immediately running his scanner over Jim's torso. An awkward silence descended which Bones became aware of gradually. He looked up from his tricorder slowly, almost warily, and looked at each of them in turn. "What's going on?"
Both Jim and Uhura turned to look at Spock who was glaring at Bones.
"Doctor, I understand that you have been pursuing a romantic and sexual relationship with Lt. Uhura, but your attentions are no longer appreciated or desired. Please desist."
"What?" Bones growled, while Uhura stood up and took a step away from the group.
"Spock," she said, reprimand and bewilderment clear in her voice. "What's gotten into you?"
Jim watched from the ground as Spock and Bones stood too, and began arguing over Uhura as she vehemently interjected that she could fight her own battles and would they both just shut up? He still wanted to laugh, but more than that he wanted to get up and walk into the forest and never come out. Embarrassment burned under the misery of hearing that voice in the back of his head say 'I told you so'. He'd been treating Spock like he thought he knew how his first felt about him, and now he could see the stupidity in that. What kind of moron projected their own feelings on to a Vulcan and came out of it without a broken heart?
"I'm gonna go," he said to no one, and took off towards the voices across the clearing.
"Captain!" Lt. Tolu exclaimed, his ears perking forward in greeting. "Where is Thompson?"
"I'm not sure, but we'll find him. How many did you beam down with?" Jim asked, slipping into his role with only a little difficulty.
"Five, sir."
"Alright, get these people back on the Enterprise. I don't want anyone else disappearing on me. We'll scan for the rest of the landing party from orbit."
"Aye, sir," the security officer answered, already flipping open his communicator.
It was then that everything started to go to Hell. Out of no where, a hooved creature jumped between them and plucked the communicator right out of Tolu's hand, startling them both when it cackled loudly and began to run off. At the same time Uhura shouted, "Spock, no!" and Jim turned just in time to see Spock hoist Uhura onto his shoulder, Bones crumpled to the ground at his feet.
Those field exercises had apparently paid off after all, because while his instinct screamed at him to go after Spock, his brain forced him to pull out his phaser and stun the creature before it could make off with their link to the Enterprise.
Once the communicator was safely back in his hands, Jim whipped around to stun Spock, but he was gone.
"Fuck!" Jim cursed, flipping open the communicator. "Scotty!"
"Aye, Captain?" Scotty answered, obviously confused as to why he was being yelled at. Jim tried to take a calming breath.
"I need you to beam up all life-forms in this clearing. Now." He cut the connection and ten seconds later, gold lights began to circle everyone in the clearing, including the stunned creature at his feet.
"Get this thing to the brig," he demanded once they were back on the Enterprise, kicking at the unconscious creature. "And get McCoy to sick bay. Scotty I want you to locate any other life forms within a six kilometer radius of where we beamed down this morning, and where you beamed us up from just now."
"Aye, Captain," Scotty answered, wisely not asking any questions before getting to work.
Jim watched Tolu lift the unconscious creature with ease and remove it from the transporter room as McCoy's staff lifted him onto a gurney.
“Notify me as soon as he’s awake,” Jim demanded, already following Tolu to the brig. He studied the creature his security officer was carrying as they walked, recognizing it somehow, but unwilling to jump to conclusions just yet. It was amazing, really, that when Spock wasn’t around Jim’s demeanor changed just enough to compensate. It meant he had grown as a person and a leader. Which was great, he was sure, but he preferred having Spock around anyway.
“Does this creature look familiar to you?” he asked Tolu as soon as the Rastin had activated the brig chamber shields.
“No, sir,” he answered, but that wasn’t a shock. If Tolu had recognized it, Jim probably wouldn’t have and every time Jim looked at the thing he got a distinct sense that he’d seen it before.
“Alright,” Jim said, pulling out his communicator and taking a quick snap shot of the alien. “Alert me as soon as it wakes.”
Tolu nodded and assumed parade rest; Jim considered telling him to relax, but at a time like this, he actually appreciated the Rastin’s constant professionalism. It was an excellent reminder of what he needed to emulate right now: unwavering control and professionalism. He almost smiled to himself as he made his way to engineering -- what he needed right now was Spock.
“Scotty,” he called as soon as he entered the transporter room, “please tell me you have good news.”
“Aye, sir,” Scotty smiled, “I’m picking up several life form readings, just waiting on you to say where to begin.”
Jim rounded the console to see the readings for himself.
“Let’s start here,” he said, selecting a small area of the map that contained two life readings. One was running hotter than the other and Jim could only hope that it was Spock.
He was tempted to just jump on the transporter pad and go alone, but if Spock was here, he never would have allowed that. Instead he called for two security officers and strapped a phaser to his waist.
They were ready to go soon enough, and Jim said ‘energize’, his heart pounding just a little faster than was usual for away missions.
Touch-down was easy, and Jim immediately pulled his weapon. He motioned for the security officers with him to do the same, set to stun.
“If you see Commander Spock, stun him,” Jim said lowly as they began to move through the brush. “I don’t care if he looks and acts completely normal, stun him and get him back on the Enterprise. Understood?”
“Yes sir,” his men said in unison. Normally Jim would have laughed at that, but he was channeling Spock and Spock certainly wouldn’t have laughed. He checked the tricorder he’d brought along instead.
“This way,” he said, and began to creep towards the life-readings.
They heard the voices long before they saw either person, mostly because Uhura was shouting at what he presumed to be Spock.
“-what the hell is going on, Spock, but you need to stop! We’re not together anymore for a reason!”
Jim began to run until he could hear Spock too.
“-opposed to our separation originally. Secondly, Doctor McCoy is a volatile and prejudiced Human at best; he is not an ideal mate for an extraordinary Human being just as yourself. I, on the other hand,-”
Jim stunned him before he could finish his, surely logical, counter argument.
“Captain!” Uhura exclaimed, partially incredulous, but mostly relieved.
Jim ignored her in favor of kneeling next to Spock and pulling out his communicator. “Kirk to Enterprise,” he said, while checking for a pulse. Of course it was there, but Jim felt himself relax as soon as he was able to put his hand to it. “Are you alright?” he asked, directing his attention to his communications officer. She nodded just as Scotty’s voice came over the link.
“Ready to beam up?”
“Yes; all five of us,” Jim answered. He looked down at Spock and added, “And make sure there’s someone in the transporter room who can carry Spock to the brig. I doubt stunning him will have helped the situation any.”
- - -
The first thing Spock noticed after waking on the floor of a brig cell was the unbearable gaping feeling in his chest at being parted from Nyota. There was a part of his brain that acknowledged the illogic of such a sentiment -- of any sentiment, really, but this one especially -- but such worries seemed to pale in comparison to the extent of his suffering.
“Lieutenant Tolu,” he said, standing as the officer turned to face him. “Please lower the cell shield; I am in a much more stable condition now.”
Tolu gave him a quick once-over and Spock attempted to look as convincing and intimidating as possible, but Tolu had been a Big-Man on his home world and as such was not easily intimidated, if at all. It was something Spock often appreciated about the officer: it meant less time spent on preoccupation over the proceedings of away missions, when the captain was with the Rastin.
Spock replayed that particular thought process. The only person’s well-being with whom he was currently concerned was Nyota’s; why did he feel such a strangely grateful appreciation for a man who he knew he could count on to protect the captain?
“Pardon me, Commander, but I find that difficult to believe. Currently, you appear quite ill and confused.” Tolu’s words pulled Spock from his mental musings. “Please excuse me while I notify the captain of your condition.”
Spock nodded, finding it difficult to be upset with the Rastin’s perpetual politeness.
“Tolu to the bridge.”
Spock sat on the bunk and took in his surroundings with careful attention to detail. He had never been on this side of the brig cells before.
“Kirk here,” came the captain’s voice and Spock’s mind swam with a sudden onslaught of confusion and dizziness.
“Commander Spock is awake and unwell,” Tolu said.
There was as quiet curse from the Rastin’s communicator and then the captain said, “I’ll be right there.”
“Jim,” Spock whispered, trying to massage the ache from his head; something was wrong in his own mind, but he couldn’t think past the muddling confusion to correct it.
On the bridge, Jim was just about to step into the turbo lift when Lt. Uhura called for his attention.
“I’m receiving a transmission,” she said, not taking her eyes from the console screen, “but I don’t immediately recognize the language. It is coming from the planet, though.”
“Let me know as soon as you can decipher it,” Jim ordered and left the con with Sulu.
He tried not to feel too upset or anxious. It was pointless, really, because whenever something happened to Spock it was Jim’s automatic reaction to feel upset and anxious. There was also an element of sick nervousness which was new, but understandable and somewhat embarrassing: caring for someone so much that their disapproval or rejection made you ill was kind of pathetic. And worrying. Jim had come to the tentative conclusion -- partly out of confidence in Spock, and partly out of egotistical self-confidence -- that something had happened to the half-Vulcan on the planet to cause his sudden shift in behavior. But if what had caused Spock’s actions really was just a change of heart in the Vulcan -- Jim snorted mentally at his own idiom choice -- then he wasn’t quite sure how he was going to make it out of this one wholly sane.
That realization was fairly mortifying, but he could analyze it later. Right now he had to deal with the way Spock was rubbing at his temples like his head was killing him.
“Spock?” he called softly, and not quite as professionally as he’d have liked.
Spock’s head lifted and he said, “Jim,” before pain flashed through his eyes and he dropped his head to his hands again.
“Spock!” Jim’s hands smacked into the cell force-field before he could think to simply take it down. Fortunately all he had to do was nod at Tolu, who was already waiting at the controls, and then he was kneeling in front of Spock, trying to peer at his face. “Spock, what’s wrong?”
“I do not know,” Spock gritted out, eyes clenched shut against the pain. Jim put his hands on either side of Spock’s face and rubbed his thumbs against the his temples soothingly.
In this position, he had the perfect view of Spock’s face when Uhura’s voice came over Jim’s communicator with news about the transmission: the pain immediately cleared from his face and he stood, shoving Jim to the ground and stealing his communicator in one swift movement.
“Spock!” Jim shouted, trying to force as much authority into his voice as he could over the hurt. Spock faltered only enough to send Tolu flying across the brig as he took over the cell controls and raised the force-field in front of Jim. “Spock! Damnit!” Jim yelled, fists slamming into the shield again, this time from the other side of the cell.
Tolu recovered quickly and soon enough both he and Jim were chasing after Spock who was presumably headed for the bridge.
Alone in the brig, Puck smiled to himself. “How interesting,” he said, and stepped out of the cell that’s force-field had been accidentally lowered in all of the commotion. He closed his eyes and when they opened again, he was in his old guise as Robin Goodfellow, this time dressed as a Starfleet officer. He smiled to himself mischievously and took off to join the mayhem.
The bridge, when he arrived, was pure chaos. The pointy-eared one whose eyes he had treated stood with his arm around the waist of a beautiful woman dressed in red. She appeared quite distressed around the eyes, but her posture was straight and her fists were clenched as though anger was not very far off.
The captain, whose part was that of the slighted lover in this rendition, was trying to negotiate everyone present into some state of calm, while he himself was barely holding onto his own emotional controls.
There were about ten different people trying to speak at once and from what he could tell, about five of those voices had something of relative importance to say.
“-his form and left the brig just after you did, sir...” one of the helmsmen was saying, his young face distressed.
“-willing to help Spock if we bring him and the prisoner to the planet’s surface,” the woman was shouting at the captain, who was trying to pay attention to her, and about three other crewmen at once.
“Fine,” the captain said to the woman, grabbing ahold of a man in blue who looked mad enough to turn his anger physical, “just get him to the transporter room. Chekov, pull up an image of what the prisoner looks like now and broadcast it to the ship. Tolu, start at the brig and work your way out. Bones, calm the fuck down!”
The man in blue ceased struggling, but didn’t stop scowling at the pointy-eared one as the woman in red put a hand on his chest and tried to convince him to go to the transporter room with her.
“Broadcasting now, captain,” the helmsman said, and before Puck could stop himself he was laughing at his own image plastered across every console.
The bridge became eerily quiet as Puck laughed and, having given himself away anyway, he quickly reverted to his own, more comfortable form.
“Who is it that’s negotiating my return, then?” he asked, chuckling again at the bugged-out eyes of those around him. “I highly doubt it’s His or Her Majesties. It’s the boy, isn’t it?”
When no one bothered to answer, Puck rolled his eyes and moved back to the lift. The strange one with iridescent skin and big ears who had kept watch over him in his prison cell shadowed his movement, a weapon pointed casually at Puck’s chest.
“What boy?” the captain asked in the now silence of the bridge.
“The Queen’s boy. The King’s paige. My apprentice. Knowing him he’s probably gathered the rest of your lost men too. Sentimental little thing, he is.”
The captain’s cold eyes bore into Puck’s for several long moments and then he turned to the strange one with the weapon and nodded. Puck’s arm was seized and he was marched ceremoniously to a new level of wherever he was.
“Scotty,” the captain was saying behind him as Puck was forced up on to a platform, “If we’re lucky we’ll be trading this one for the three men who are still on the planet’s surface. If that’s the case, I want those three and Spock and Uhura beamed up first. Tolu, McCoy and I will come up next.”
“Aye, captain,” the man answered, already tapping at his console.
Puck almost wanted to laugh at the image they made on this platform, so serious and yet barely holding on to their careful composure. Oberon was going to love this tale, Puck was sure.
The first thing Jim noticed after touching down in the meadow from the night before was his three security officers and the relieved looks and all their faces.
The next was the small blue child with four arms and slanting eyes that made Jim shiver involuntarily. It made a loud trilling noise and launched itself at their hoofed prisoner. He caught the child easily and smiled, though it looked like he was trying hard not to.
“Now you’ll undo what you did to Spock,” Jim said, no room to misinterpret his words as a question.
“Unfortunately, no,” the creature said, and Jim’s temper spiked, “you’ll get that honor.”
“What?” Jim spat, confusion not helping to temper his anger.
He looked at the child who presented him with a white flower from nowhere.
“Wait until he sleeps and then squeeze this flower’s juice onto his eyes. When he wakes he will be without the influence which he is under now.”
Behind him, Spock murmured something to Uhura, but Jim couldn’t focus on that right now. “And if that doesn’t work?” Jim asked, not really wanting to think about what the fuck he would do then.
“It will,” the creature said, smirking infuriatingly. “You’ll just have to trust my word.”
Jim stared him down for several seconds before stepping up to the creature, right into his personal space. “If it doesn’t work,” he said lowly, “I will hunt you down. On that, you can trust my word.”
The creature laughed and Jim stepped back.
“It was an honor to meet you, Captain Kirk,” he said, and then he was gone, bounding for the tree-line with the child still in his arms. One small blue hand waved at them and then they were gone.
Jim stared for a beat and then looked back at his crew members. They looked tired and wary, just like he felt.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said with a smile he didn’t feel and hailed Scotty.
Spock sat on the edge of Nyota’s bed, awaiting her return. She had been called away by the captain and Spock was attempting very hard not to think about what they could be discussing, because every time he thought of Jim his head hurt unbearably.
It had taken much arguing and quiet assurance from Nyota -- which Spock had not been pleased with -- until McCoy had left them alone for the night. He was exhausted, but he would not sleep until he knew Nyota had returned to him.
He was idly listing prime numbers in his mind to keep from thinking of what the captain could want with her when the door chimed and then opened.
Nyota smiled at him and crossed the room to place a white flower on the bedside table.
“Are you tired?” she asked, and Spock reached out to draw her nearer. She was stiff in his embrace, but rested her hands in his hair eventually.
“Yes,” Spock answered. “Will you join me?”
Her gaze flew to the flower and back to him, and she nodded. “I’ll share my bed, but just for sleep, Spock. I’m very tired.”
Spock nodded, in understanding if not complete agreement of her restrictions. She was, no doubt, wary of him still. Though their separation had been ultimately mutually agreed upon, he was the one who had introduced the topic, to her initial disagreement.
Spock waited for her to enter her bathroom before undressing and moving under the bedclothes.
When she joined him several minutes later, Spock’s final thoughts before sleep were that he would simply have to prove his love in the most basic and obvious ways possible. What those ways would be, he would meditate on later.
She watched Spock wake from across the room, at her desk. Immediately, his hands went to his eyes, and he wiped the flower’s juice from his eyelids before opening them slowly.
She saw the moment he remembered everything. It looked painful and not, she knew, for her sake. When he sat up and found her, she smiled sympathetically.
“How are you feeling?”
Spock hesitated, still inherently uncomfortable with that particular question.
“The sate of my mind and... other faculties seem to have return to normal,” he answered eventually, like talking about his heart was a metaphor that was beneath him. That was one thing she’d never miss.
“Good,” she responded, and waited.
“Nyota,” he said after he had examined everything in the room and had no choice but to look at her again, “I apologize for my actions and words while under the influence of the alien substance. I will understand if you do not wish to be near me.”
She laughed and crossed the room to sit at the edge of her own bed. “Oh, don’t flatter yourself,” she said as gently as possibly, smiling to show him she was teasing. “I’m fine, Spock. If there’s anyone you should be apologizing to and then avoiding it’s Leonard.”
A distasteful look crossed Spock’s face. “Indeed,” he said, and she knew no such apology would be forthcoming, though the advice of avoidance would certainly be taken into consideration.
“Also,” she said, even more gently, “You should probably go see Jim.”
Spock’s eyes fell to the bed spread and never had she seen a more tragic expression of regret than his face in that moment. Her heart broke for him and she gathered him into a hug, making quiet soothing noises that he probably couldn’t interpret.
“I know for a fact he’s not upset with you, Spock,” she said softly. “He’s only worried that this will have somehow changed your mind about you and him.”
Spock’s head shot up from her shoulder and he looked confused for all of three seconds before seeming to remember that 1) Nyota was very good at getting the captain to speak his mind candidly and 2) there was hardly ever any logic to the emotions and worries of Humans.
“I must-” he began, but Nyota was already standing and handing him his folded clothes.
Once he was dressed, he turned back to her and said, “Thank you, Nyota,” with enough emotion it nearly brought tears to her eyes.
“You’re welcome,” she answered and watched him leave, a quickness to his steps that was usually never there.
She took a moment to sigh and then dressed. Ten minutes later, she was standing in the doorway of Leonard’s office, being steadily ignored.
He remained hunched over his desk even as she stepped inside and let the door slide shut behind her. It was a little ridiculous, really, how much she put up with from the men aboard this ship.
“Leonard,” she said softly, carding her fingers through his disheveled hair. He stilled and after a moment leaned back in his chair to look up at her. There were dark circles under his eyes, as though he had not yet gone to bed.
He cleared his throat and asked, “How is he?” in a rough voice.
“He’s fine. Left almost as soon as he’d woken up to go find Jim,” she answered, brushing her thumb under one of his tired eyes. He sighed and let his eyes flutter shut. Like he had been honestly worried; like he thought that she would jump at any chance to be with Spock again.
“Do you want to talk about this?” she asked, but of course he shook his head no. She smiled and tried again, “Do you mind if I say a few words, then?”
He hesitated but shook his head again. She eyed his chair briefly before sliding onto his lap. His eyes flew open and he locked his arm immediately around her waist to keep her from falling off.
“Spock and I had a conversation before we broke up,” she began, forcing him to keep eye contact with a gently hand, “And in the end, the decision was mutual. He was going to leave for the colony, to help repopulate his race, but he stayed. Not for me, but for the ship. For his position. For Jim, really, because by then things had changed so much. There was no way we could go back to what we were. I had accepted that by the time you gathered the courage to ask me to dinner.” He grumbled quietly, but the tension was leaving his eyes. “I wasn’t looking for a rebound partner, and I certainly wasn’t looking for some Spock-replacement. I’m not with you because you remind me of him, or because you’re nothing like him. I’m with you because you’re sweet and smart and annoyingly chivalrous, and because I know that you’ll be there for me when I need you.”
Leonard swallowed and cut his eyes to the side. He was nearly as bad with strong emotion as Spock, though she’d never tell him that for fear of incurring his haughty wrath.
“I, uh...” he tried to start, but looked up at her again instead and there was something there that made Nyota sigh and lean down to press her lips to his. His fingers found their way into her hair and she had to wrap her arms around his neck to keep from sliding to the ground.
“You need a bigger chair,” she laughed against his lips and he laughed too before standing abruptly, one arm under her legs and the other at her back. She laughed again, startled and loud, and let him set her down on his desk.
When she looked up at him after clearing the space underneath her, his throat was working like maybe he was going to say something after all.
“Nyota...” he began gruffly, threading his fingers through hers. His mouth worked wordlessly for several moments and then he looked up. “I don’t know if now is the time to say this, but I wanted to warn you that... that I’m falling in love with you,” he finished so softly it was almost a whisper.
There were probably words that were better suited for this situation, but at the moment all Nyota could do was smile. Based on Leonard’s reaction to her smile, however -- a devastating kiss that ended in a heap on the desk -- he’d understood her just fine.
Jim was not in his quarters. Spock was slightly relieved because they needed to exchange words and such an exchange would most likely not take place in a room where Jim’s bed was so readily accessible. They had not shared a Human nor even a Vulcan kiss yet, but if he was being honest about the emotions roiling in his chest at the moment, such expressions of desire and more were not far off.
The ship computer in the corridor informed him that the captain was currently on observation deck 6, a guess Spock probably could have made himself had he stopped to think properly. Instead he quickly made his way to the nearest lift.
Outside the observation deck, Spock took one steadying breath and then stepped up to the doors, expecting them to slide open soundlessly.
They did not.
Spock worried for a moment that this was a sign that the captain wished to be alone, no matter who came to see him. As captain, however, Jim would have been able to program entrance specifics; if he wanted only Spock to be able to enter, the computer would keep everyone else out.
Slowly, Spock raised his hand and placed it against the biometrics scanner. Almost before he could hope, the red light flashed green and the doors opened for him.
Jim turned at the sound of the door closing again behind Spock and they stared at each other until Jim broke the silence with an unsteady, “Hey.”
Spock was across the room and had Jim pressed against the observation railing within a matter of seconds. He held their bodies mere inches apart as he dipped his head and placed the most Human of kisses on Jim’s lips.
After a startled pause of 1.3 Earth seconds, Jim made a soft sound and surged forward, wrapping his arms around Spock’s neck and shoulders.
Spock became aware, slowly, of his own name being whispered between them with every exhale Jim breathed into his mouth. Spock slowed the frantic kisses to a steady press of lips and then gently broke the kiss.
“Jim, I would like to apologize-” he tried to stay, but was cut off by another kiss.
“’s okay,” Jim whispered. “Wasn’t your fault. Just kiss me.”
Spock almost protested but then Jim’s hand cupped his neck and he could feel the relief coming off him in waves: relief that the second flower had worked, relief that he had his first officer back, relief that Spock still wanted this from him, relief that the regret from never having done this sooner was gone now. There were still words Spock needed to say, but he realized now that they could wait. Jim was never one for words when actions would suffice, anyway.
He took half a step closer to Jim and the relief in Jim’s mind made a quick turn-around to unrelenting and irrepressible want. It pulsed into Spock’s mind like his own heartbeat and soon they were matched in strength and the way they moved Spock’s blood to anywhere but his mind. He regretted, now, that he had not found Jim in his quarters. Despite his best intentions, they had done very little talking, as he should have predicted regardless of the location.
“Jim,” he began, meaning to suggest a move to either of their quarters, but with the name his own hips pushed forward into the hard heat of Jim’s groin and he ended up greedily swallowing Jim’s groan instead.
The situation quickly dissolved from there until they were both on the floor and carefully, slowly, pressing up and into each other again and again. Jim gently licked and then bit at his ear, and Spock’s smooth thrusting faltered to a stop.
Jim’s low laughter in his ear cut through the haze of lust that had clouded his mind and Spock pulled back just enough to see Jim’s darkened eyes.
The ‘moment’ that followed was unlike any other that Spock had experienced with Jim. It was more, somehow -- heavier and strangely powerful. Jim cut his eyes away and swallowed.
“So I’m glad you came to your senses,” he said, his voice deep and rasping. Spock raised an eyebrow but did not comment on the way the continuing sense of pure relief pushing through from Jim to Spock at ever point of contact undermined those flippantly spoken words. “If that flower hadn’t worked, my next plan of action was to be even more charming and seductive so as to win you over again. But then half of the Enterprise probably would have fallen for me too, and that would have just been awkward.”
Spock briefly considered playing along -- yet another Human phenomenon that he was marginally better at than teasing -- but said instead, “I am sure you would have succeeded in your endeavor and dealt with the subsequent awkwardness appropriately.”
Jim’s face split into a grin and he rolled his eyes even as he laughed with genuine amusement. “I’m sure,” he agreed, his voice full of laughter and shoved up with one side of his hips, pitching Spock over and onto his back.
He gazed down at Spock before saying, “Well you’re stuck with me now, you know,” in that same flippant tone.
“Yes,” Spock answered, just as seriously as he had before. Jim swallowed audibly again but did not look away this time.
Instead he smiled and leaned down to gently press his lips to Spock’s.
Spock had known it before -- much earlier, in fact, when they were still just captain and first officer -- but he was struck by the thought now that there was nothing he would not do for this man. More often than not, that meant and would mean saving him from unfortunate diplomatic and illogically dangerous predicaments. But he knew too, just as surely as he knew his own name, that Jim would do nothing short of the same for him.
They were an unlikely pair, he and his captain. They were not the norm; not by Human standards and certainly not by Vulcan expectations. And they may not have fit in on their home worlds, but they fit together and Spock found that to be more fulfilling than any normalcy could ever bring him.
There was nothing like the pair that he and Jim Kirk made together. They were a singularity, and for that Spock was immeasurably glad.