[TWBI] Anniversary
Title: Anniversary
Series: That Would Be Illogical
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Rating: PG13
Length: 1,194
Pairing: Kirk/Spock
Summary: This is not the first illogical action I have ever participated in because of James Tiberius Kirk. I doubt it will be the last. Masterlist
Previous: Better Instructor
Jim peered over my shoulder at the experiment I was currently running. I could feel his anxious energy flowing from him. I cannot remember him so apprehensive since the last week of our ten-year commission when we were returning to Terra. Although it was not unusual for him to join me in the science building to walk home together, he has arrived much sooner than usual.
"You appear to be upset," I note.
I feel him shrug against my shoulder. "No, not really."
"But something is troubling you."
Jim is quiet for a long moment. "A little bit," he admitted. Years ago, he would not have admitted such a thing without much pressuring.
"Perhaps we should retire early for dinner," I suggest. "I am at a point in my experiment that it can be put on hold."
"Sounds good," he said, although he did not sound as enthused as he usually does when I agreed to leave early with him. "We don't really have an anniversary, do we?" Jim suddenly asks.
"Anniversary for what?" I ask, not looking up from my experiment.
He sighs heavily. "Exactly."
I raise an eyebrow and look over to him. The slight frown on his face has grown more pronounced and his brows are knit together. "I do not understand," I say.
He looks over to me. "Did your mother-" he began before hesitating. "Did she ever make your dad celebrate the anniversary of their marriage?"
I nod, turning back to the vials when I see in my peripheral vision that they began to bubble. "Each year. It was one of the few Terran customs in which my father allowed my mother to indulge."
"I just kind of realized that we don't have that. A day to celebrate how long we've been together." Jim leans on the counter with a small smile. "I never thought I'd want it, especially when we started, but I suddenly do."
I glance over. I do not suggest marriage. While his commitment to me is obvious, he is more comfortable with it not being formalized. As we have been bonded, I have no preference either way. A human might be offended or suspicious, but I am not human. We have already been joined together in a way far deeper than a certificate can show. Of course our bond was not created but spontaneously came into existence over a period of time and therefore is not viable for an anniversary.
I complete the next stage of my experiment before preparing it for stasis. I would not usually leave so early, but if Jim desires my company, I will not hesitate to give it to him. "Perhaps you can choose an important event in our relationship as a date," I suggest.
"Yeah, but I don't remember any of the dates for anything that happened between us," he says.
I give him a pointed look.
He looked slightly sheepish, remembering I can recite the day of almost every single occurrence between us down to the minute. "Another plus to being with a Vulcan," he says with a grin.
"Of which, there are many," I say, causing him to laugh as was my intention. I store the experiment and place the vials in the sanitizer to be cleaned. I don my thick robe as it as been going chilly in these autumn months and meet Jim at the door. He is thankfully grinning, in a better mood than before.
"Alright, what event should it be?" he asks, his arm slipping around my waist as we walk in the deserted hallways of the Academy labs. It is a slightly awkward way of walking as our hips bump every 18.3 steps, but I do not move to extract his arm.
"I am unsure," I admit. "I do not see any one event as more important than any others."
"What about our first kiss?" Jim asked.
"Are you referring to the first time we kissed or the first kiss you remember?" I ask, giving him a pointed look. He continues to claim the first did not count.
Jim snorts in amusement. "Not when I was drunk off my ass. That time you kissed me on the shuttle. We got together after that."
"We avoided each other for 2.3 weeks afterward," I remind him. "You cannot say that was the starting point of our relationship."
Jim removed his hand from my waist when crewmembers could be heard down the hallway. While I am loath to admit it, I dislike the ceasing of our contact. "Yeah, I guess that's true." He pauses. "What about our first date? That dinner on Argelius II?"
"When you consumed avocado and became violently ill for the rest of the shore leave?" I ask.
He grimaces. "Yeah, that wasn't exactly the most romantic moment ever." A sly smirk grows on his face. "How about the first time we had sex?"
I shoot him a glance. "I prefer not to discuss such things here," I say as two cadets pass us.
"What? The amazing sex last night?" Jim says loudly and I hear the cadets that just passed grow silent and slow their steps, most likely to look back at us.
I do not react, although I exhale heavily in exasperation. I have long grown accustomed to Jim's attempts to embarrass me and I no longer blush at such talk. Which, of course, only causes him to try harder. "Do you not grow tiresome of such antics?"
"Never," he grins. "You know I love when your ears and your cheeks become all green."
"Indeed," I say flatly.
Jim chuckles before sighing. "Okay, let's try a different approach. If someone asked you how long we've been in a relationship, what would your answer be?"
"Seven years, 10 months and 28 days," I say without hesitation.
He looked over, surprised at my immediate response. "That was fast. Based on what?"
"It was the morning after the first night we slept together."
He smirks. "I thought you said you didn't want to discuss it here."
"Slept together," I reiterate. "Went to sleep in the same bed. Not had sex."
"Oh," Jim said, his grin slipping. "Why then?"
I consider a moment. "That morning, I awoke 3.2 hours before you. I found you laying half on top of me, pressed against my side with an arm on my chest and a leg between my own, drooling on my shoulder and snoring moderately."
Jim laughs. "And why, exactly, do you consider waking up with me sprawled over you and looking like an idiot the beginning of our relationship?"
I hesitate a long moment before finally admitting, "I was truly happy for the first time in my life." It sounded like a confession of being sad most of my life, but for a Vulcan, who feels no emotions, it merely meant that I felt an emotion so strongly I could not suppress it.
He stops us in the deserted hall and looks over to me with a large grin growing on his face. "You're admitting that?"
I lean forward and press my lips gently against him. "I cannot deny the facts. That would be illogical."
Next: Pumpkins
Series: That Would Be Illogical
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Rating: PG13
Length: 1,194
Pairing: Kirk/Spock
Summary: This is not the first illogical action I have ever participated in because of James Tiberius Kirk. I doubt it will be the last. Masterlist
Previous: Better Instructor
Jim peered over my shoulder at the experiment I was currently running. I could feel his anxious energy flowing from him. I cannot remember him so apprehensive since the last week of our ten-year commission when we were returning to Terra. Although it was not unusual for him to join me in the science building to walk home together, he has arrived much sooner than usual.
"You appear to be upset," I note.
I feel him shrug against my shoulder. "No, not really."
"But something is troubling you."
Jim is quiet for a long moment. "A little bit," he admitted. Years ago, he would not have admitted such a thing without much pressuring.
"Perhaps we should retire early for dinner," I suggest. "I am at a point in my experiment that it can be put on hold."
"Sounds good," he said, although he did not sound as enthused as he usually does when I agreed to leave early with him. "We don't really have an anniversary, do we?" Jim suddenly asks.
"Anniversary for what?" I ask, not looking up from my experiment.
He sighs heavily. "Exactly."
I raise an eyebrow and look over to him. The slight frown on his face has grown more pronounced and his brows are knit together. "I do not understand," I say.
He looks over to me. "Did your mother-" he began before hesitating. "Did she ever make your dad celebrate the anniversary of their marriage?"
I nod, turning back to the vials when I see in my peripheral vision that they began to bubble. "Each year. It was one of the few Terran customs in which my father allowed my mother to indulge."
"I just kind of realized that we don't have that. A day to celebrate how long we've been together." Jim leans on the counter with a small smile. "I never thought I'd want it, especially when we started, but I suddenly do."
I glance over. I do not suggest marriage. While his commitment to me is obvious, he is more comfortable with it not being formalized. As we have been bonded, I have no preference either way. A human might be offended or suspicious, but I am not human. We have already been joined together in a way far deeper than a certificate can show. Of course our bond was not created but spontaneously came into existence over a period of time and therefore is not viable for an anniversary.
I complete the next stage of my experiment before preparing it for stasis. I would not usually leave so early, but if Jim desires my company, I will not hesitate to give it to him. "Perhaps you can choose an important event in our relationship as a date," I suggest.
"Yeah, but I don't remember any of the dates for anything that happened between us," he says.
I give him a pointed look.
He looked slightly sheepish, remembering I can recite the day of almost every single occurrence between us down to the minute. "Another plus to being with a Vulcan," he says with a grin.
"Of which, there are many," I say, causing him to laugh as was my intention. I store the experiment and place the vials in the sanitizer to be cleaned. I don my thick robe as it as been going chilly in these autumn months and meet Jim at the door. He is thankfully grinning, in a better mood than before.
"Alright, what event should it be?" he asks, his arm slipping around my waist as we walk in the deserted hallways of the Academy labs. It is a slightly awkward way of walking as our hips bump every 18.3 steps, but I do not move to extract his arm.
"I am unsure," I admit. "I do not see any one event as more important than any others."
"What about our first kiss?" Jim asked.
"Are you referring to the first time we kissed or the first kiss you remember?" I ask, giving him a pointed look. He continues to claim the first did not count.
Jim snorts in amusement. "Not when I was drunk off my ass. That time you kissed me on the shuttle. We got together after that."
"We avoided each other for 2.3 weeks afterward," I remind him. "You cannot say that was the starting point of our relationship."
Jim removed his hand from my waist when crewmembers could be heard down the hallway. While I am loath to admit it, I dislike the ceasing of our contact. "Yeah, I guess that's true." He pauses. "What about our first date? That dinner on Argelius II?"
"When you consumed avocado and became violently ill for the rest of the shore leave?" I ask.
He grimaces. "Yeah, that wasn't exactly the most romantic moment ever." A sly smirk grows on his face. "How about the first time we had sex?"
I shoot him a glance. "I prefer not to discuss such things here," I say as two cadets pass us.
"What? The amazing sex last night?" Jim says loudly and I hear the cadets that just passed grow silent and slow their steps, most likely to look back at us.
I do not react, although I exhale heavily in exasperation. I have long grown accustomed to Jim's attempts to embarrass me and I no longer blush at such talk. Which, of course, only causes him to try harder. "Do you not grow tiresome of such antics?"
"Never," he grins. "You know I love when your ears and your cheeks become all green."
"Indeed," I say flatly.
Jim chuckles before sighing. "Okay, let's try a different approach. If someone asked you how long we've been in a relationship, what would your answer be?"
"Seven years, 10 months and 28 days," I say without hesitation.
He looked over, surprised at my immediate response. "That was fast. Based on what?"
"It was the morning after the first night we slept together."
He smirks. "I thought you said you didn't want to discuss it here."
"Slept together," I reiterate. "Went to sleep in the same bed. Not had sex."
"Oh," Jim said, his grin slipping. "Why then?"
I consider a moment. "That morning, I awoke 3.2 hours before you. I found you laying half on top of me, pressed against my side with an arm on my chest and a leg between my own, drooling on my shoulder and snoring moderately."
Jim laughs. "And why, exactly, do you consider waking up with me sprawled over you and looking like an idiot the beginning of our relationship?"
I hesitate a long moment before finally admitting, "I was truly happy for the first time in my life." It sounded like a confession of being sad most of my life, but for a Vulcan, who feels no emotions, it merely meant that I felt an emotion so strongly I could not suppress it.
He stops us in the deserted hall and looks over to me with a large grin growing on his face. "You're admitting that?"
I lean forward and press my lips gently against him. "I cannot deny the facts. That would be illogical."
Next: Pumpkins