Paragon - An LJ Exclusive
Title: Paragon
Category: Star Trek: TOS
Character: James T. Kirk
Pairing: Jim/Spock, One-sided Jim/Enterprise
Rating: T / PG
Genre: General/Romance
Words: 993
Note: Based loosely on exchanges between Spock, Kirk, and Eve (sp?) in the episodes “The Enemy Within” and “Mudd's Women.”
…
To appear as a Paragon to the crew is just one of the many duties an individual must perform as a star ship captain. No flaw can be found, and no mistake can be realized without it appearing the be completely logical at the moment in time in which it is made. This is no standard belief; this is regulation. A law that must be upheld despite any circumstance that should make it easier for the captain to appear human for one iota of a second.
James T. Kirk was well aware of this particular rule. In fact, it was thrown in his face on a regular basis. Only the constant pressure of the sobering knowledge that the crew needed him on every side kept the man from bashing his head into the nearest bulkhead. He was not to fraternize with the crew, despite how one-hundred of them were fit, able-bodied women who were smart enough to not make themselves a target. (His yeoman, Rand, was especially so. Loyal, sweet, pretty, and not afraid to fight back if someone were to attack her, though she would hesitate should it be a friend.) He could have his pick of the litter. Flirting was all fun and games, but in the end sex- relationships- were off limits. Regulations were regulations and should Kirk breach them the man would find himself on Rigel twelve mining Lithium crystals for the rest of his days, with only three men and their wives for company (and he wasn't into infidelity.) He didn't let it bother him, as he loved his ship far more than any one-night-stand.
Sometimes he thought it unhealthy, the amount of attention that he channeled into the Enterprise. It was bordering on obsession, and he'd never admit to the thrill he obtained from simply walking her halls. Nothing was more animated than his ship; more gorgeous than her ample nacelles and frightening than the trembling that shook her frame once they hit warp four. He feared he would break her with that speed; couldn't bear to see her fall apart in his hands. Such an offense would be unrivaled by any crime, any sin, in all its cruelty, for it would take a truly terrible being to destroy such a perfect being.
If any were to be a Paragon she would be as such. Not him.
He was to be a Paragon, though. Spock saw to that, watching his every move with a sense of integrity that set the flame of jealousy burning in the Captain's chest. It was a relief to know that his second was not after his job- even in another universe where such a thing would have been common, even accepted- and was simply looking to improve the lives of everyone on the ship. That flame burned brighter with every day. Before long it was envy. Envy for his logic; his ability to stay calm in the worst of circumstances; the ability to keep them all, and the ship, in one piece. If anything, Spock should have been the Captain.
But he wasn't, and he didn't want the job. He never wanted the job, though he'd probably do a more efficient job, and Kirk loved the Enterprise far too much to hand over the position to anyone else, even if it meant she would be in better hands.
And Spock knew this.
Eventually the Envy faded, and Jim was left with a hollow sensation in his chest that couldn't be filled by an inanimate object that could not return his affections. He could not find someone to fill the hole- regulations, after all, must be obeyed. Instead, he found himself wandering the ship late at night, unable to sleep. Spock would find him, sometimes, as he required less sleep than a human, and they would engage each other in a game of three-dimensional chess. Sometimes Jim won, and Spock would win others. Occasionally they came to a standstill, and neither could make a move without risking Checkmate. Such events were a battle of wills that neither would concede. It wasn't until their fingers began brushing, a few months in, and Spock would inhale oh-so-subtly in the utter silence of Rec. room two at 0200 hours that Kirk realized what was going on. That he'd gotten to Vulcan second base. The thought wasn't entirely unpleasant, either; not after getting to third base with the ship. (To this day he refuses to admit that the small virus in the speech system that made her call everyone “dear” for two weeks had been his doing.)
He tried not to dwell on the fact that he was practically dating the Vulcan without breaking a single rule in Starfleet. It was easy enough, and before long he'd grown accustomed to the idea.
They were three years into the relationship before anything of particular note took place. This, of course, refers to sex. Several days of it. The Pon Farr had hit as violently as it should have- thankfully in a space of time in which they were two weeks from their next destination. (Only a Vulcan could time their sex drive to be convenient, as Kirk was bored out of his mind until it was revealed that Spock was horny. The idea of this kept him laughing for a while.) As the staff was under the impression that Jim was under some kind of Klingon Flu (which are know to be especially nasty) he was actually being ravaged within an inch of his life.
As it was, a Paragon should make logical choices, and Spock was by far the most logical being on the ship.
That, and the sex was definitely worth the wait.
…
End Notes: A short V-day special for you guys, since I haven't updated in a while. (Return is still giving me trouble.) Check out my other post, too- Skating Clean (which, I may add, was originally supposed be be about as long as this one-shot.)
Love,
Besieged Infection
Category: Star Trek: TOS
Character: James T. Kirk
Pairing: Jim/Spock, One-sided Jim/Enterprise
Rating: T / PG
Genre: General/Romance
Words: 993
Note: Based loosely on exchanges between Spock, Kirk, and Eve (sp?) in the episodes “The Enemy Within” and “Mudd's Women.”
…
To appear as a Paragon to the crew is just one of the many duties an individual must perform as a star ship captain. No flaw can be found, and no mistake can be realized without it appearing the be completely logical at the moment in time in which it is made. This is no standard belief; this is regulation. A law that must be upheld despite any circumstance that should make it easier for the captain to appear human for one iota of a second.
James T. Kirk was well aware of this particular rule. In fact, it was thrown in his face on a regular basis. Only the constant pressure of the sobering knowledge that the crew needed him on every side kept the man from bashing his head into the nearest bulkhead. He was not to fraternize with the crew, despite how one-hundred of them were fit, able-bodied women who were smart enough to not make themselves a target. (His yeoman, Rand, was especially so. Loyal, sweet, pretty, and not afraid to fight back if someone were to attack her, though she would hesitate should it be a friend.) He could have his pick of the litter. Flirting was all fun and games, but in the end sex- relationships- were off limits. Regulations were regulations and should Kirk breach them the man would find himself on Rigel twelve mining Lithium crystals for the rest of his days, with only three men and their wives for company (and he wasn't into infidelity.) He didn't let it bother him, as he loved his ship far more than any one-night-stand.
Sometimes he thought it unhealthy, the amount of attention that he channeled into the Enterprise. It was bordering on obsession, and he'd never admit to the thrill he obtained from simply walking her halls. Nothing was more animated than his ship; more gorgeous than her ample nacelles and frightening than the trembling that shook her frame once they hit warp four. He feared he would break her with that speed; couldn't bear to see her fall apart in his hands. Such an offense would be unrivaled by any crime, any sin, in all its cruelty, for it would take a truly terrible being to destroy such a perfect being.
If any were to be a Paragon she would be as such. Not him.
He was to be a Paragon, though. Spock saw to that, watching his every move with a sense of integrity that set the flame of jealousy burning in the Captain's chest. It was a relief to know that his second was not after his job- even in another universe where such a thing would have been common, even accepted- and was simply looking to improve the lives of everyone on the ship. That flame burned brighter with every day. Before long it was envy. Envy for his logic; his ability to stay calm in the worst of circumstances; the ability to keep them all, and the ship, in one piece. If anything, Spock should have been the Captain.
But he wasn't, and he didn't want the job. He never wanted the job, though he'd probably do a more efficient job, and Kirk loved the Enterprise far too much to hand over the position to anyone else, even if it meant she would be in better hands.
And Spock knew this.
Eventually the Envy faded, and Jim was left with a hollow sensation in his chest that couldn't be filled by an inanimate object that could not return his affections. He could not find someone to fill the hole- regulations, after all, must be obeyed. Instead, he found himself wandering the ship late at night, unable to sleep. Spock would find him, sometimes, as he required less sleep than a human, and they would engage each other in a game of three-dimensional chess. Sometimes Jim won, and Spock would win others. Occasionally they came to a standstill, and neither could make a move without risking Checkmate. Such events were a battle of wills that neither would concede. It wasn't until their fingers began brushing, a few months in, and Spock would inhale oh-so-subtly in the utter silence of Rec. room two at 0200 hours that Kirk realized what was going on. That he'd gotten to Vulcan second base. The thought wasn't entirely unpleasant, either; not after getting to third base with the ship. (To this day he refuses to admit that the small virus in the speech system that made her call everyone “dear” for two weeks had been his doing.)
He tried not to dwell on the fact that he was practically dating the Vulcan without breaking a single rule in Starfleet. It was easy enough, and before long he'd grown accustomed to the idea.
They were three years into the relationship before anything of particular note took place. This, of course, refers to sex. Several days of it. The Pon Farr had hit as violently as it should have- thankfully in a space of time in which they were two weeks from their next destination. (Only a Vulcan could time their sex drive to be convenient, as Kirk was bored out of his mind until it was revealed that Spock was horny. The idea of this kept him laughing for a while.) As the staff was under the impression that Jim was under some kind of Klingon Flu (which are know to be especially nasty) he was actually being ravaged within an inch of his life.
As it was, a Paragon should make logical choices, and Spock was by far the most logical being on the ship.
That, and the sex was definitely worth the wait.
…
End Notes: A short V-day special for you guys, since I haven't updated in a while. (Return is still giving me trouble.) Check out my other post, too- Skating Clean (which, I may add, was originally supposed be be about as long as this one-shot.)
Love,
Besieged Infection