10 song-based pieces
1. The Great Pretender
Kirk sighed. Shrugging out of his command shirt, he security-locked the door before sinking down the wall into a heap on the floor of his cabin. He felt like the world was on his shoulders, and he was buckling under the weight. Unbidden, the image of one who could better carry his burden floated before his closed eyes. Spock.
Spock, with broad shoulders and resolute determination... Yes, he could do it. But he was gone. Gone... Kirk smothered the involuntary sob in the crook of his arm.
2. Ole Black 'N' Blue Eyes
The night had hidden the extent of his injuries from his friend when they returned to the hotel the night before. But now, in the light of day, purple-brown patches were blossoming magnificently along his arms and neck. "Jim..." was all Spock could manage, his breath taken away by the vulnerability of his captain.
"She..." the captain winced, trying to stand but getting nowhere. "She was..." He seemed at a loss for words, but Spock understood.
"The Orions are not reputed for their integrity, captain," he chastised fondly.
3. My Life
"I just... I don't know if I can do this any more," Kirk murmured quietly. Standing to attention at his bedside, Spock said nothing. He did not know what to say. "So many people, so much to manage..." The captain seemed to lose his train of thought, his gaze drifting into the middle distance.
"Too many people have died, Spock," he almost-snarled.
"Yes."
"I have let too many people die." This earned him a vehement shake of the head from his friend. "Never. Under any other captain, our casualties would have been far greater." Spock sensed that Jim would not appreciate precise statistics right now.
"I just feel so... alone. Out of place," Jim searched for the right words. "Like... I don't belong any more. I think I've been responsible for too many deaths for people to like me," he sighed forlornly.
"No..." breathed Spock gently. "Although, I am not technically people..."
4. Joanna
McCoy had drunk at least four times as much as he would have done on board the ship, and he had reached that stage of drunkenness best referred to as 'maudlin'. "She's everywhere I look, Jim," he moaned pitifully. "Nothing I do seems to make any difference. She made me happy, and now..." He paused to swallow back another shot of unidentified alcohol. It burned at his raw throat, but right now he couldn't care less. "Hell, I'm not even sure I remember how to be happy anymore."
"I just keep ignoring the pain, pretending like I don't care, because when you're being all heroic, and Spock's being... well, Spock," he sighed, "I don't want to look..."
The doctor locked eyes with his friend and Kirk was concerned by the depth of sorrow he read there. "...weak," he gulped softly, waving for another drink.
5. He's So Fine
Spock was leaning over the scanner at the science station – Kirk couldn't help but think of it as his science station. His strong physique was highlighted as the material pulled taut over his back and legs, and the captain swallowed. He tried to look away, but found that his gaze was glued immovably to the Vulcan's thankfully oblivious figure.
6. Prime Time
This was the life. Sailing through space, surrounded by the best damn crew in Starfleet, adventuring to unexplored new planets and working with numerous species of unimaginable variety... No, life was certainly never boring on the Enterprise. Jim smiled at his introspection. Must be getting tired to have let his attention drift so far.
"Mr. Spock, you have the conn.," he called, sotto voce, and the half-Vulcan turned to him in acknowledgement. "Yes, captain," he nodded neutrally, but Kirk thought he detected an edge of concern in those bottomless chocolate eyes. He offered his First Officer a small, reassuring smile before turning to the turbolift.
7. We've Gotta Get Out of This Place
The two friends cast their gaze despairingly around their latest cell. "Pretty efficient," mused Kirk, almost to himself. Spock turned and raised one eyebrow in silent query. "Well," the captain elaborated, "do you remember the last time we were in a prison quite so difficult to break out of?"
"Alpha IIV, Star System..." Spock stopped as the bemused expression on Kirk's face registered. "A rhetorical question," he half-stated, half-asked. His friend grinned then, nodding vigorously though it jarred his sore neck.
"You know, Spock, I do believe you are really coming to understand we illogical humans," he smiled. Spock raised his eyebrow in response, but the eyes beneath twinkled with suppressed laughter.
8. Where Have All The Good Times Gone
"What happened, Spock?" wondered Kirk aloud. He popped open the first button on his uncomfortable red tunic with a weary groan. His joints popped as he stretched stiff arms above his head and pushed away from the desk slightly. "We used to have such good times, didn't we? Such adventures," he shook his head, smiling to himself. "Remember Altair VII? That was... something."
The admiral touched a tender finger to the glass of the photograph frame, his smile dimming. "Miss you," he whispered hoarsely. The only reply was overwhelming silence.
9. Mr. Blue Sky
It was over. Another mission completed, another incident report, another ensign whose parents he would have to commiserate...
Kirk groaned angrily, burying his head in his arms on the desk. Didn't he used to enjoy this job? The honour and glory and all that brought with it? These days it seemed like all he did was ignore his grief and wade through the paperwork. When did it become so... difficult?
"God," he breathed, "Why do we do this?" It worried Kirk that, for the first time in his life, he had no answer.
The aroma of freshly-ground coffee materialised next to his head, and Kirk looked up. Spock was seated across the desk from him, two mugs in hand. He offered his friend that tiny half-smile, and Jim grinned tiredly. "Thanks, Spock," he smiled, taking the proffered drink. This was why.
10. Hold On
"The lucky ones?" Kirk barked a single 'Ha!', glaring bitterly at no-one in particular. Spock watched him carefully, seated by his side.
"Jim..." murmured Spock softly. His friend turned to him enquiringly. "You are upset about the death of Yeoman Fletcher." It was not a question.
"Damnit, Spock!" he yelled suddenly, throwing down his padd. The half-Vulcan almost flinched, but he knew the rage was not really directed at him. "Why..." he sighed. There was a frightening vulnerability in his now-enrolled form, hunched in on himself as he perched on the edge of his bed.
Spock moved to sit beside him once more, resting a comforting hand on the captain's trembling shoulder until the sobs subsided. "I am here, Jim," he said firmly. It seemed to help.
