Spirk; Ten

Dearest

Nowadays, Spock could only be routinely known to scold Kirk, out of newly formed habit. At the beginning of the Enterprise crew's mission, it would have shocked anyone enough to require a trip to sick bay to think of Spock not instinctively Vulcan neck-pinching the captain for the words he just spoke to his commander, and right in the middle of the bridge for that matter.

"Whoa there, set phasers on stun, 'cause you're looking gorgeous." Kirk was blazingly bold, but all Spock did was scold (which was basically the Vulcan equivalent of a playful tease.) Yes, this whole bizarre scene occurred right smack dab in the middle of the bridge, though it was long ago that the crew of the Enterprise became accustomed to this strange entity that now happened on almost a daily basis. However Kirk would make it up to Spock later, when he was nestled in his arms, whispering in the Vulcan's pointy ear.

"Dearest, you're the nearest to my heart."

The younger man would then be rewarded with an affectionate nuzzle, his partner's nose pale against his golden locks. For a moment as Spock allowed his thoughts to wander, he briefly wondered how long Jim and himself would last, although he doubted this feeling –yes, feeling—which was so unbelievably dazzling, could ever go away.

And James T. Kirk couldn't help but smile as he picked up on this thought through their bond, because he knew that together their love would grow old. (A perk of mind melding with Spock Prime.)

"I love you," Kirk couldn't have muttered any truer words at that moment if he tried.

When It Rains

She supposed it was a 'Vulcan Thing.' However, that didn't make it any less troublesome. Lieutenant Uhura knew perhaps better than anyone that in space, all alone out in the dark universe, when the shit hit the fan, there was no escaping. There wasn't many places on a starship crew to get some alone time. Even when you were alone you were surrounded by people. But somehow, Spock seemed to think that when something went awry, getting away from everyone was the best course of action. Uhura found it very hard to deal with a boyfriend who ran away from everything. Exhibit A; when his mother died, Spock, her boyfriend, refused to accept any help or comfort from her, pretending he didn't need it. All he claimed to need was his damn logic. Logic, logic, Uhura was sick to death of logic. She knew, she could tell, that it was because of logic that Spock was so unhappy –and oh yes, he was unhappy- and that logic was the reason Spock couldn't enjoy things fully. But Spock would never hear any of that, claiming that logic was by far not the reason for any discomfort he may be experiencing. No, not feeling, but experiencing. Spock always ran away from those who loved him the most.

Always.

All Uhura wanted was for Spock to take a chance to turn it around. But she realized that it would never happen when Spock approached her one day, and in the bluntest of wording, broke up with her. She never even saw it coming. He never even gave her a chance. He never even gave his humanity, his emotions, any chance.

What Uhura didn't know, but would later discover, was just how much Spock really did give his humanity a chance. Exhibit A; when he allowed a certain star fleet captain sit close to him that night as he quietly spoke of the death of his mother Amanda, and how he truly felt. But not even Spock knew about the conversations he would have with his captain in the future, about how that man made him feel when they were together.

Because not even Vulcan's can know the unknowable.

Not Fair

Jim adored Spock. Spock treated him with respect, he showed him (indiscreetly) how he loved him all the time, he checked up on him when they were separated almost exactly fifteen times a day, and it comforted Jim to know that Spock liked to make sure that he was fine. Jim had never met a man that made him feel quite so secure; he wasn't like any of his ex boyfriends, who were all pretty dumb and immature.

Jim only had one problem. When he and Spock were alone together, and Jim tried to make a move, or do anything, Spock always shut him off. Well quite frankly Jim found it quite unfair and he found it pretty mean. Sock was supposed to care but he never let Kirk make him scream. Some days Jim would get distressed and depressed about the fact, but then he would remember all the nice things Spock had ever said and think that maybe he was just over reacting, and maybe Spock really was the one for him.

But after one particularly stressful day (who knew things could go so terribly wrong when you mixed Chekov and Sulu's botany lab) he simply couldn't take it anymore and he confronted Spock about his thoughts.

After one particularly breathless and muddled rant, Kirk turned fuming to the Vulcan man, raising an eyebrow.

To which a completely calm-faced, unmoved Vulcan replied with a question, "Captain, are you aware of the meaning of Pon Farr?"

Franklin

Kirk did not feel relief as he stepped on Iowa soil. He did not feel that comforting sense of returning home. Spock did not feel a deep sense of anything as his feet first touched the ground of New Vulcan. While this lack of emotion was not unusual for a Vulcan, Spock could not say that he was looking forward to the week of shore leave he was about to spend on the planet. Home was not really home for either Kirk or Spock. For both men, the short leave from their adventures across space was an eternity. They both found that they could not properly enjoy anything at all because they were both harboring a deep sense of homesickness. Though neither of them knew it, every night of their shore leave both men, so different and yet the same, would gaze up at the stars, and feel like they were at home. But slowly, and with doubt and dread, they also both came to realize that no, space was not what made them feel at home. Space was definitely not home for either man. For Kirk, his home was with Spock. For Spock, home was with Kirk. Home is where the heart is. Home is where you truly always belong. Gazing up at the endless sky, the two men missed who they were when they were with each other. They felt surrounded by strangers who did not know who they truly were. They did not feel like their true selves.

They could not ignore it. Everything had changed.

A whisper before a black-haired head fell onto a neatly placed pillow, "I won't get used to being gone."

A sigh before a messy-haired head fell back onto the leather jacket he was using as a makeshift pillow, "Going back won't feel the same."

A week later the two men walked towards each other slowly, as if an eternity had passed between them instead of a mere seven days. As the rest of the crew shuffled by them, hundreds of other bodies drifting by their own world where nothing else could touch, the pair spoke quietly, as if exchanging a deep secret.

"I can't go back to the way things were." Kirk couldn't stop himself from saying it.

"I do not believe myself to be capable of that action either. Captain, I have come to discover that you remind me of a time when I…felt alive."

A smirk, "Do you remember that?"

"Loving you makes me remember that."

"Well that's funny Spock, because loving you makes me feel alive."

Rainbow Veins

James T. Kirk had fully planned to fill his little get away with activities galore to keep Spock entertained to full capacity. But it seemed that a few years in space could make one forget how undeniably boring their home town really was. Kirk drowsily wondered if going to Vulcan really would have been a better idea.

At the present moment Kirk was standing in the middle of a wide sea of grass that was damp with dew. He had to admit to himself that this plan had sounded much better in his mind.

A barely present chuckle from beside the starship captain made him turn to gaze at the man beside him. For a split second Jim forgot how to breathe. Bathed in milky moonlight, Spock's pale skin gave off an evanescent glow, and his dark black hair contrasted brilliantly—becoming one with the black of the night. Spock turned to stare back at his bond mate. There was no smile on his lips to betray his previous chuckle, but there was mirth glistening in his eyes.

"Do not worry Jim. Despite your opinion, I can assure you that I have in fact been rather 'entertained' during our stay at the town of your birth."

Spock must have picked up on his thoughts through their bond. Instead of replying to the handsome Vulcan at his side, Jim reached out a hand and entwined it with his. That reminded Jim why they had chosen his hometown to stay at instead of Spock's; Hand-holding was a big no-no on Vulcan.

Jim felt another wave of amusement come from Spock. He was about to whip out a snarky remark but a cold wind stopped his thoughts in their tracks and he subconsciously moved closer to the man beside him, seeking out his fever-high warmth. (There were a few advantages to dating a Vulcan.) At the same moment Kirk shuffled closer, Spock instinctively moved to wrap his arms around his th'y'la.

Jim's thoughts were groggy, "Cold nights make staying awake so hard…"

"There is no need to stay alert, K'diwa."

Jim's words became mumbles as he buried his nose in Spock's shirt, "For heaven's sake, keep me awake…"

"For what purpose, Jim?"

"I don't want to miss a moment of being with you."

Born For This

I have realized that I continuously find myself reputedly returning to habits that I thought I had long since abandoned.

Or, as Jim would say, "I keep on falling back the same old…"

Upon realizing this, I have begun to wonder if there is any hope for me, because it seems that misery is always crawling in the back of my mind, waiting to overtake me. This is of course all purely metaphorical, since Vulcan's do not succumb to an illogical thing like emotion. Still, though, I have lost sleep thinking about this thought that has lodged itself thoroughly in my mind like a poisonous seed. I feel Jim would now say something along the lines of, "And that's saying something, considering how Vulcan's don't get the awesome factor of a nap; seriously though, it isn't that odd to sleep a few extra hours." I would then proceed to tell him how illogical his comment was, of course.

But thinking about metaphorical situations with my commanding officer does not help my current situation.

The fact is simply that James Kirk has (once again) made me ponder something highly illogical. He has made me wonder about my "habit" of being logical at every moment. And although I must say that using the word "habit" to describe the use of logic from a Vulcan is highly illogical in itself, I must also conclude that Jim, as he would say, "has a point."

For I am beginning to wonder if because of my Vulcan heritage, I will never truly fit amongst the crew of the U.S.S Enterprise.

My father Sarek once told me that I would always be a child of two worlds, and that he was grateful for that. I must admit I felt a deep gratitude towards my father when he told me this, but at times when the people you will most likely be spending many years with are all included in something that you could never understand, I begin to wonder if being a child of two worlds is really something to be grateful for.

For some reason I still do not comprehend, I voiced these fears to Jim last night when we were playing a game of chess inside his quarters, which we have started doing more and more frequently. Sometimes we play in my quarters, but for the most part we are in Jim's, for he is naturally more open than I am. I have been with this crew for approximately four point three months now, but I am still not fully able to be open with everyone. It seems Jim has slowly been becoming the one exception to this rule. Though that does not surprise me, as Jim often has little regard for rules and regulations.

In any case, after I voiced my thoughts, Jim reacted in a way that I was not expecting. Though when dealing with Jim, it is usually wise to expect the unexpected.

Jim smiled at me in the most curious way, and asked me when the next time I was "free" was. The he explained he wanted to know when I had a period of time to perform recreational activities.

I told him tomorrow night.

Which means that now, I am waiting outside of Kirk's quarters like he asked of me.

I have the distinct feeling that we are about to do something illogical.

Right as I am about to push the buzzer, Jim's door slides open. I suddenly find our faces very close together.

I do not proceed to blush a slight tint of green and then step back faster than necessary. That would be illogical.

Jim seems not to notice what has just occurred and flashes his usual brilliant smile.

…Correction, his cocky smile.

Now that Jim is no longer within centimeters of my face, I notice he is almost bouncing up and down in anticipation. Which means whatever he has planned is probably going to be very amusing to him. This in turn most likely means something bad for me.

But I am taking a leap of faith. Yet so is Jim. With his faith, Jim just might trigger a landslide in my life, something that might destroy my common sense of mind.

I am not entirely sure whether I object to that.

xxx

Approximately one and a half hours after I met Jim outside of his room, I find myself running away from sick bay in a light sprint. Jim is at my side, panting harder than I am, but with a look of elation on his face. As we round a corner, doctor McCoy's surprised shout only widens Jim's grin.

We turn a few more corners before we slow to a jog, then a stop, and Jim leans against the wall to catch his breath.

The complexities of human pranks still escape me. Yet, seeing Jim's content and flustered face, I think I might begin to see what humans enjoy about them. I also see even more clearly how illogical they are, yet even if I hate to admit it…

I believe I have…enjoyed myself.

"Man, the look on his face must have been awesome!" Jim has regained his breath enough to speak.

I muse to myself that it takes an acquired mind to, as doctor McCoy himself might put it, "taste this wine" that is James T. Kirk.

I can not stop the corners of my mouth from lifting just a fraction. A small fraction.

"See Spock. We were born to take chances and live in the moment." I have a suspicion Jim saw the movement of my lips.

I study Jim's eyes. It is almost as if he is saying, "Ok, then you say this with me, let go of logic."

His words make me wonder if maybe, just maybe, we were also born to fall in love.