Kirk/Spock
After "This Side of Paradise"
Kirk unconsciously seeks reassurance about Spock's feelings about being with him on the ship, and gains an understanding of his feelings.
Assuming Spock and Kirk develop a relationship (for the sake of the fandom) this is based on a time where Kirk first realizes his feelings.
(Yes, I know it's mushy.)
"I have little to say about her, Captain. Except that . . . for the first time in my life, I was happy."
Jim Kirk, for the life of him could not bring himself to forget that statement. Three weeks after the evacuation from Omicron Ceti III, that one proclamation of Spock's continued to harass and inconvenience Jim.
It drove him positively insane.
"It still bothers me!" He mused aloud, much to the chagrin of Dr. McCoy. He had been acting listless for days, and somehow managed to find his way down to the sickbay where he proceeded to plague the doctor with his pitiable wonderings.
"Jim…" McCoy warned, but he was clearly ignored.
"I don't understand." Jim grumbled from behind him.
"Jim." McCoy turned around, and shot him an irritated glare.
The captain continued to wonder out loud obliviously, and the patients surrounding him looked towards him uncomfortably. Exasperated, McCoy reached over Jim, pulled back his glove and released it with a resonating and thoroughly satisfying smack across his temple.
"OW!" Jim recoiled abruptly, his hands flew to his forehead.
"That's what you get." McCoy returned to his patient.
"Bones!"
"Oh stop it, Jim! What are you doing, lounging around my sickbay and making my patients uneasy?"
Jim grinned unabashed. He turned towards a woman sitting nearby, and leaned forward provocatively.
"I don't make you uneasy, do I?" he asked charmingly. She giggled, and shook her head. He turned back to Bones with a guiltless expression, as if to say "see?" McCoy merely rolled his eyes.
"What's the problem now?" he gave in to curiosity, and the secret hope that maybe, maybe this problem could be resolved quickly.
Jim's face fell, and he returned to his brooding.
"Bones, am I a good captain?" he asked sullenly.
McCoy was taken aback. He glanced up to see Jim looking dismally in another direction.
"Certainly." he said easily, and returned to his task when he was interrupted again.
"Are you happy on this ship with me?"
This time McCoy could not ignore the desolate implication in his voice. He adopted a dry tone, and said,
"Jim, that's an absolutely ridiculous…"
He stopped when Jim turned to meet his gaze.
It seems this would not be resolved quickly, unfortunately. McCoy drew a long weary sigh and rubbed his eyes.
"Nurse Chapel, will you take over?" he called over his shoulder and stood up. Nurse Chapel moved forward quickly and McCoy gestured to the doorway and said, "All right, Jim, let's talk."
McCoy went to the sink and began to scrub his hands as he asked,
"So what was that question all about?"
Jim wandered around behind him and didn't reply. Aggravated all over again, McCoy reached out and flicked ice cold water at him.
"B-BONES?" Jim whirled around.
"Damnit, Jim, I don't have all day! You're the one moseying around like some lost puppy, and asking absurd questions…" he said crisply, and dried his hands.
Jim held his hands up. "All right, all right I'll get on with it." he was suddenly serious, and asked piteously, "Do you remember when we came back from the colony a while ago, and we asked Spock about Leila?"
"Of course."
"Do you remember what he said?"
"I remember he had nothing to say about it…"
"No, no! That's not what he said!"
McCoy stared at him, baffled.
"Yes it is, I specifically remember…"
"No! No, he said something else, do you remember that?"
McCoy continued to look bewildered.
"He said," Jim continued with gravity, "That for the first time, ever, he felt happy!"
He waited expectantly for Bones to react. When he did not, Jim sighed exasperatedly. "Do you know what that means?"
"Dammit, Jim, I'm a DOCTOR-""-not a psychiatrist, right?"
"JIM!" he bellowed, and Jim raised his hands meekly above him again.
"Sorry, sorry, but Bones-"
"If it bothers you so much, just ASK Spock!"
At once the teasing light left Jim's eyes and he reverted to his former despondent state. The abrupt change was not missed by the doctor, and he knew immediately the source of the problem. Jim retreated, searching for a chair, and when his wandering hand found it he sank resignedly.
"No…" he finally admitted, and sighed heavily. "No, I can't do that."
Bones remained standing, and crossed his arms.
"Is it because you don't want to hear the answer?"
"It's not that…" Jim looked sideways at his friend.
"If his answer is what I think it is…I don't know what I'll do."
McCoy was surprised. He pulled out a chair and sat down beside him.
"What are you afraid of?"
"If he tells me for certain that all this time he hasn't been happy here…"
"Well what do you expect, that he'd be teeming with pleasure? He's Vulcan, Jim."
"Only half."
"Still. You know Spock."
Jim did not reply at first, and pressed his hands together. "I know," he began, "that every day here with you, and Spock, and the crew has been pleasant." he paused, straightened up, and with some distress, he added animatedly- "It's an adventure! It's lively, it's stimulating! I relish every day..." he trailed off. McCoy nodded.
"I don't want to believe that all this time I have enjoyed myself, Spock was simply being … indulgent."
After relaying the cause of all his doubts, Jim's face became so solemn and so dejected, McCoy felt pity for his friend. He shifted uncomfortably, and patted him on the back reassuringly.
"I'm no shrink," he said, and shot Jim a reproachful look of warning. "But," he continued, "I think you won't get any kind of resolution if you don't work it out yourself."
Jim drooped. McCoy frowned admonishingly, and affirmed his advice. "Talk to Spock. If you can't talk to him, well, you'd only have me and then god help us all."
Jim smirked, brightening at last, and punched him lightly on the arm. "Oh don't be so coy, Bones." He rose a bit somberly.
Then almost on cue, Spock suddenly came through the door and stood before them.
"Mr. Spock." Jim said almost incredulously, and McCoy swiftly stepped forward and greeted him.
"Doctor." Spock nodded to him. "Captain, you are needed on the bridge." he said promptly.
"And not a minute too soon," said McCoy, albeit a bit too loudly. He looked at Jim and nodded supportively.
"All right, then." Jim muttered, and with some new resolve, he strode out of the sickbay, waving offhandedly at Bones behind him.
Activities on the bridge were regular the rest of the day, and Jim managed to resume his composure and carry on normally. His brief bout with despondency behind him, he was again in control by the end of the evening shift, and standing beside Spock he remarked,
"I think this day was successful, don't you Mr. Spock?"
"I do not understand your reasoning, Captain. We have not accomplished anything of merit today."
"Nonsense. We managed a perfectly uneventful day. No one attacked us, no one died- I'd say that's a good day!"
Spock inclined his head. "Indeed. If your opinion of a successful day is one without incident, then yes, today would count as a 'good day'."
Jim looked at Spock as they made their way down the hall. As they paused beside a lift, Jim asked, "Well, Mr. Spock. Would you have preferred something dangerous happen today?"
Spock glanced at him and answered, "Of course not, Captain. You are right, a day without accident is a successful one."
"Would you have been happy if something happened today?" Jim knew he was repeating himself, but he wanted to see what Spock would say. Without planning, he brought up the predicament that had plagued him earlier, and he placed it between them. Spock, however, only raised an eyebrow just slightly, and declared matter-of-factly, "I am satisfied with the results today, Captain." The lift arrived, they stepped in together and the conversation was dropped.
But later in the evening while the crew was at dinner, Jim could not swallow the unsettling feeling that rested in the pit of his stomach. Anticipating he would not be needed for the rest of the night, he brought out a bottle of brandy to alleviate some of his tension. After a time, he began to feel the effects, and he indulged himself with a little more. He exhaled deeply, and looking towards the ceiling, he closed his eyes.
"For the first time in my life…"
He opened his eyes again.
"… I was happy."
"Captain?"
By now his body was slack with drink, and he let his gaze fall languidly on his first commander. Leaning back a bit less than gracefully, he smiled indolently at Spock.
"Ahhh, Spockity."
Spock raised an eyebrow, but remained silent.
Jim hummed delightedly, and gestured to the bottle. "Have a drink, Spockity!"
"I'll excuse myself, thank you sir."
Jim chuckled, and lurched violently to the left for a brief, terrifying second until he felt Spock's steady hand keeping him still. He looked up languorously at him and beamed.
"Why, thank you…" he all but purred, and he sniggered. He knew he must look ridiculous, and he made several attempts to compose himself.
"Are you well, Captain?" Spock's calm voice cut through the haze of the alcohol. It was soothing, and it made Jim feel tranquil. He exhaled slowly, and smiled.
"I'm afraid I'm a bit buzzed, Spockity…" he pushed his glass away. "But I'm fine." His wits about him again, though barely, Jim felt the unerring need to inquire about that irrevocable, provoking proclamation. This time, he felt he could muster the courage.
"Spock." he murmured, deeply.
"Yes, Captain."
Jim looked at him pained. "We're off duty."
Spock's usual impassive expression softened.
"Yes, Jim?" he said lightly.
Jim turned back to the bar and took hold of his glass and bottle.
"There is something I've been meaning to ask you."
Spock inclined his head.
"At the colony…" Jim felt his breath falter, and he ran his fingers over the neck of the bottle.
"You said for the first time in your life, you were happy."
"I did." Spock answered easily. Jim's fingers trailed a little faster.
"Does that mean, Spock, that all this time you've been on this ship with me…" he clutched the bottle.
"…you've been unhappy?"
A brief silence followed the question. Jim heard crew members talking lively across the hall, and his hand trembled.
"Captain…"
Jim winced. He rubbed his eyes and turned to Spock, and searched his expression. He saw nothing there.
"I . . . have found great pleasure in my work here." Spock finally said.
Ah.
Jim did not allow himself to react. He let the feelings that washed over him settle, and he absorbed them until he found a name for it. This was…
…disappointment.
"Well, then." he mumbled, and he swallowed what was left of the drink in his glass. "That's good."
Spock remained still and said at length,
"Captain, I have the notion you are not satisfied with this response."
Again with the 'Captain'.
"Really?" Jim forced a light, contented tone. "Don't be silly, Spockity."
He hoped to God it was convincing.
He rose unsteadily, and Spock immediately reached out to help him. Leaning on him, Jim let his disappointment sink in, and as he gathered his bearings, he wondered…
What answer had he been hoping for?
He wanted assurance that Spock felt as pleased and content around him as he did. Why should it matter so much if Spock was happy with someone else on another planet, and yet he was not happy here?
"Ah…" realization dawned on him. Jim staggered.
So that's why.
Jim pressed a hand to his eyes and immersed himself in this new feeling.
He loved Spock.
"Oh, god…" Jim groaned, and then he laughed. He laughed so hard he had to cling to Spock for support. He steadied himself with a hand on his knee, and with every burst of laughter he felt one heavy emotion fall away, and a new kind of ache take its place.
"Oh, my god." he breathed deeply, a strained expression on his face. Recovering, finally, he straightened up and looked fully at Spock's resolute and barely puzzled face.
"I think it's time I went back to my room," Jim managed, and as Spock led him down the corridor, he only just allowed himself to clutch at Spock's shoulders, and lean into his sturdy arms.
McCoy knew at once without asking what happened between Jim and Spock. He could see very clearly the effort his friend had to muster in order to maintain normality around Spock, and McCoy could see the anguish that flashed over his face when Spock was gone. Jim was his usual exuberant and proficient self, but then, he hid his distress very well. Bones could not even gather enough irritation to scold Jim when he ambled again into sickbay morbidly, and he even allowed him to be coddled by the other lady patients. McCoy knew Spock would not have said anything outright rejecting, but Jim was smart, and whatever was said he probably understood more than Spock meant to answer, and he couldn't ask him any more.
Now Jim was chatting energetically with Scotty and Uhura, his hands gesturing widely, and he seemed to be on a roll when Spock entered the room. Jim paused, noticeably, but he recovered quickly and managed to finish. They laughed and he smiled, but his eyes were unsettled, and he reached up to rub behind his neck. Spock took the burst of laughter as an opportunity to intervene, and Jim's hand began to rub more vigorously.
"Captain, these are the schedules you asked for."
"Oh, thank you, Mr. Spock." Jim reached for the clipboard. His hand continued to press hard on his neck.
"But I thought I asked Sulu for these?"
Spock wordlessly turned to the doorway where Sulu shuffled in embarrassed, with a huge bruise on his head. McCoy at once chided him and smacked a compress to his forehead.
"Oh."
Not knowing what else to say, Jim scanned the schedule and proceeded to make changes. He glanced up to see Spock remaining where he was, and that made him feel panicked, exhilarated and horrified all at once. Scotty and Uhura had drifted away, and poor Sulu was being lectured somewhere beyond Jim's view. Their voices mingled and floated above him and he realized, as he stood motionless beside Spock that they were quite isolated. The words swam before his eyes and he put down his shaking pen. He handed the clipboard back to Spock, and said coolly, "Put those changes in the database, would you Spock?""Yes, sir."
And with that Jim excused himself, almost stumbling over his own feet in his haste. McCoy watched his less than graceful exit, and looked at Spock who lingered in his place for a moment, and after clenching the pen in his hand, he too left.
Another week passed, and Jim grew steadily more forlorn and troubled. How he managed to act normally was amazing, but somehow he was able to convince himself that nothing was different at all between him or Spock, or anyone else on the ship for that matter.
That is, until he was alone, like now.
It was very late, and he was sure no one else was awake, so after a restless hour tossing and turning he hurled himself out of bed to do some work. He roamed the walkways and stopped before a wide pane of glass, and all he could see outside was the endless abyss of stars and empty space. There was something bleak and hopeless about the sight, and yet there was still wonder. Even though there was no real significance or meaning in those stars, Jim was moved. He felt his stomach twist, and the blood in his heart overflowed until it ached. Affirming his privacy, he allowed himself to lean against the glass and stare out the window at the desolate scene, and he clenched his fists at the surge of emotion that overwhelmed him.
There could be no happiness for him so long as Spock remained indifferent. He understood Spock's Vulcan inclination, but there was also another part of him that was entirely human, capable of feeling and fierce emotion…if he allowed it. If Jim only had that smaller part of Spock admit just once that all that he felt was not in vain, well, then he could be satisfied.
Instead, there was a foreboding sense that everything was doomed to stay this way, always, and Jim couldn't stand to think that he would never ever be able to penetrate that cold Vulcan exterior. The prospect was so daunting a new wave of grief engulfed him, and he couldn't bring himself to lift his head. What torture this was, to feel so strongly. Now he could almost sympathize, even agree with Spock's need to control feeling.
But wishful thinking wouldn't change anything, so Jim snapped himself out of his reverie and pushed away from the glass. He straightened and stared hard at the stars, collecting himself, and he moved to return to his mission when a quiet voice floated through the silence and landed on his ears.
"Jim."
He looked up and stared at the profile that hovered in the shadows. The figure moved smoothly through the dark to stand beside him.
"Spock." he breathed, and they stood beside each other silently for a moment. The air was thick, and it was with a hushed voice that Jim finally remarked,
"You're up very late."
The words hung in the air momentarily, and Spock replied with equal softness, "I could say the same to you, Captain."
No one spoke for a while, and Jim felt oddly serene in the silence. When he looked again at Spock's usually inexpressive face, none of the inner turmoil that plagued him before remained. He searched for something to say, but shortly Spock intervened and he said gently,
"Captain, I would like to retract my earlier statement."
". . . certainly . . ." said Jim after a startled pause. Spock unclenched his hands from behind him and he continued.
"I would like to clarify my meaning. I have given the matter much thought."
"Well, then." Jim could think of nothing else to say. He nodded for Spock to continue.
"I did declare that my experience on the colony of Omicron Ceti III was my first experience of happiness. I have come to the conclusion that what I said regarding Leila the evening we evacuated is incorrect."
Jim swallowed. "…it was…incorrect?"
"Indeed."
"…well then." Jim pressed a hand to the back of his neck. He smoothed his hair unnervingly. "…and how have you come to this conclusion?"
"I surmised that as the experience was based on an delusion, the sensation could not have been real since it was the result of an induction, and not the product of genuine stimulation."
Jim furrowed his brows."It seems I am also capable of feeling without the influence of spores. Perhaps it is my human side revealing itself. The weeks following the evening you asked me that particular question, I have encountered a number of . . . sentiments independent of any other causes."
"Have you?" asked Jim carefully.
"Yes." Spock answered. "I have been . . . concerned. I have been worried for you, as your behavior suggested to me that you were troubled, and I believed the answer I provided to your question that night may have been the source of your discomfort."
Jim grinned in spite of himself. Of course Spock would have figured it out, he should have known better than to try and hide anything from him. He looked at Spock again to reassure him nothing was wrong when he was startled by the sudden intensity of his stare.
All at once the feelings that went somewhere came flooding back, and Jim could hear his heart pounding in his ears. That question he asked weeks ago was ringing in his head, sounding unbelievably selfish and unwarranted, and dishonest. The deafening stillness of the hall grew thicker, and Jim felt lost for breath as he managed to say heavily,
"I would not have asked you if I did not believe you would disagree."
His honesty washed over them both and visibly unsettled Spock. His face remained unchanged but his eyes shone vehemently. His voice barely audible, he said softly,
"If I have ever known happiness, real happiness, most certainly it would come from the time I spend here with you, Jim."
Jim's heart swelled. He felt every muscle in his body alleviate and relax with this revelation, and his shoulders sagged. He sighed deeply, and closed his eyes. His face was warm, and before he understood what he was feeling or what he was doing he reached out and clutched Spock's shoulder. He beamed at him with a smile so radiant hall resonated in his pleasure. He felt his throat constrict, and he drew several sharp breaths before he could find his voice. He met Spock's eyes and stared blatantly into them with such obvious bliss Spock could feel it himself through his touch. When Jim could finally speak, his voice was thick.
"Thank you, Spock."
They remained still together in a new kind of silence, a quiet that was tender and serene. Spock looked at Jim's exuberant smile and his expression changed and softened, with a look in his eyes that could be nothing less than joy.