This is another drabble, another one-shot. For anyone who is reading this and read my previous Star Trek one-shot, thank you for reading it! I've gotten over 900 hits on it, and you all completely floored me with that. If you enjoyed that one, I hope this one-shot pleases you as well.
I warn you now, this isn't as fluffy and humorous as The Dress.
Every night aboard the Enterprise, James T. Kirk lays to rest in his regulation bed, in his large captain quarters, and counts his blessings.
It was something his mother had taught him ever since he was little, and it wasn't until two years ago that he had even thought of that memory, the quiet night his step-father had left and the two sat at the dinner table with warm mugs of home-made tea. She had been sad about it, but the young teen feel guilty for the pleasure and ecstatic whirl in his belly.
Winona had taken a long draught from her mug, and lied her hands flat on the table. "I have you." She said, curling a finger. "I have our home, and memories of your father." Two more fingers curled, hiding a slim golden wedding band. "I still have my job, and friends." Jim took a gulp from his own mug, swallowing harshly when he found it still a bit too warm for his liking.
"I have my health." The older woman continued, and Jim's glacieric eyes followed the lines in her face that seemed to have magically created stories of her hardships overnight.
All was silent in the room, the light above creaking every now and then as the ancient house settled into the foundation. "You have nights where I'll stay up late with you and…" The young boy shrugged, sentence trailing off as his quiet voice seemed to leave the offer open to anything.
The blond woman's lips turned into a watery smile as she slid off her chair and knelt in front of her son. "Oh Jim…" She folded her arms around his skinny waist, resting her forehead on his boney shoulder. "You really are a wonderful son." Jim laughed, embarrassed but willing to let him mother indulge in hugging him.
"Even if you're a troublemaker, and you get in fights about silly things, and you go to school with your hair all over the place and your clothes wrinkled."
The teen squawked in protest, and the woman laughed, leaning back and ruffling his dirty blond mop. "Come on, go get read for bed, and count your own blessings as you sleep, you silly boy."
Hands folded behind his head, dressed in full uniform, James T. Kirk lays atop his bed. He thinks for a while, humming and tapping a single foot to the soft music playing from a hoverpod that drifted about the room.
And he counted his blessings.
The crew trusted him enough to ferry them to all ends of the universe and beyond. Bones kept him healthy, although the hypos were not exactly desirable. Sulu was always up to teaching him a bit about fencing and the balance required. Chekov always had amusing theories about how "wodka" made the world go round. Uhura, although she frequently claimed to hate him, did not object to the occasional conversation. She said she didn't mind talking to him, as long as he used his IQ and brain to mouth filter.
He had two homes, one on earth and one in space. He had a job, one that he- and he would deny this to the ends of the galaxy and back- enjoyed. His mother was still alive and well. Something entertaining happened every day, no matter how mundane it seems. Scotty was his frequent, "I'm up for anything and everything" friend. Although the golden shirted man was suspicious that had something to do with the fact that he got the mechanic off of Delta Vega.
And let him eat sandwiches at any time of day.
He had met Admiral Pike, possibly the only man who had actually known his father enough to tell him stories about that time in the ship's lounge, with the whiskey and funnel.
And then there was Spock. Although they hadn't started out anywhere near the relationship Spock Prime and claimed to have with Kirk Prime, the half-Vulcan had come back to be his First Officer.
Jim felt a pleasant warmth and confusion stir, making him sigh contently. The copper-blooded man certainly confused him to a certain extent, but he presented an enticing challenge, especially when Jim worked on their relationship.
Occasionally, the half-Vulcan would contribute to it, as he no longer objected to company during meals or a frivolous game of three dimensional chess. Occasionally, Jim would find himself wanting more.
With each and every passing Alpha shift, with his First Officer standing close by, Jim could feel nervous energy all but electrifying the air he breathed. The blond had always been attracted to power, the kind of power that could be dangerous, yet filled him with the kind of adrenaline rush that sent him spinning upside down for hours.
Spock was the embodiment of this power. Jim had a testament to that, what with the incident while Spock was Captain for a brief time. That kind of power exited Jim though, it made him want to experience it again.
The blond frowned to himself as his thoughts took a turn, and instead wondered if Spock was really a blessing, or a demon in disguise.
The half-Vulcan was surprisingly moody, for one raised in a race of emotion-suppressers. He would tightly turn the captain away every so many nights of spending time together, and the day after he would be as terse as ever whereas they had just been downright cordial to each other.
It confused him to no end.
Jim wouldn't admit it out loud just yet- but the process of Spock's ebb and wane was starting an ache that spread through his chest at an alarming rate.
It made the Half-Vulcan a demon in disguise.
However, Jim would whittle away his shell once again. They would meet for lunch and dinner, and retreat to an open place for a game of chess which more often that not was Jim's room, as Bones and Scotty would drunkenly take over the lounge with Jim's favorite chairs.
Eventually, Spocks' eyes would sparkle at the mention of a game, or whenever Jim asks for his input on a situation or mathematical theory. He would speak openly, and after a few more days of the blonds' prying work, invite his captain to breakfast. Jim meets him early, and waits for Spock to finish his morning meditation silently.
The conversations are easy, the games are light hearted, and the blond gets away with the occasional hand-on-shoulder.
James T. Kirk is laying in bed, hoverpod softly playing a song from the 21st century, called Halo by Beyonce Knowles.
He decides, the song is oddly fitting to his musings.
Spock has pushed him away yet again, and as the night winds down, he has nothing to do. Drink only makes things worse, and company makes him wish for the half-Vulcan that has taken to waxing and waning like the Earths moon.
He decides the more than he thinks, the more Spock is like the man the 21st century woman sings of. Jim laughs as he realizes that thought would sound very cheesy, is spoken. As well as the fact that there has not been one person he has ever felt such for.
Remember those walls I built
Well, baby they're tumbling down
And they didn't even put up a fight
They didn't even make up a sound
Looking over at his night stand, a small black knight piece sits outside of the folded box, looking almost sadly out to the room. Jim plucks the black marble from the polished metal, and rubbing a thumb across the cool rock, feels yearning churn around his stomach.
Right about now, he and the science officer might be trading witty banter on the pros and cons of emotions and warring out each comment on the checkered board.
He lets a small sigh escape his lips.
Almost simultaneously, his door slides open silently, and he sits up.
Surprise etches itself over his features, when none other than the object of his thoughts steps in.
Spock seems like he's having a hard time looking him in the eye, keeping his eyes otherwise unfocused and staring across the room. Jim tilts his head to the side, light eyes searching out the thoughts that seemed to flicker across the other mans' face.
"Spock?"
A small smile twitches at his lips as Spock all but jumps, eyes snapping into focus. He coughs into a hand once, and if Jim hadn't have heard a little baritone voice echo in the back of his mind "Vulcans do not get embarrassed", he would have sworn up and down that the black-haired man was blushing a light lime.
I found a way to let you in
But I never really had a doubt
Standing in the light of your halo
I got my angel now
"I believe you had requested my presence, earlier during alpha shift."
A surprised grin lit his eyes up as Jim rose from his bed and welcomed the other in, motioning for him to sit as he bustled to the chess set and situated himself across the table. "I didn't think you would actually come though. You've been distant, as of late Mr. Spock."
Spock helped with the set up, distributing and organizing the marble pieces. All was silent, until it was Spock's turn to move.
"I must confess, I have been somewhat… Conflicted, as of late."
Jim tilted his head to the side, contemplating his next move, and didn't reply until two turns later.
"I have noticed. If it might… Ease your mind, I would be willing to speak of it with you."
Spocks fingers lingered on his pawn a moment longer than normal, making Jim look up. Dark brown orbs lit across his face, and ice met coffee, Spock made his move and adverted his gaze.
"I have contemplated my resignation."
Jim's hand slipped, and it sent a handful of white pieces onto the floor. Blinking in surprise, he tried to catch the half-Vulcans eyes. "Excuse me?"
It's like I've been awakened
Every rule I had you breakin'
It's the risk that I'm takin'
I ain't never gonna shut you out
"I have come to the conclusion that I am not as adequate to be your First Officer as I had first calculated, therefore, I have contemplated resigning from my post so you-"
Jim waved a hand angrily, snapping "Don't you dare give me any cockamamie bullshit about not wanting to be my First, Spock, because damnit, you're stuck with me. No matter how much you hate me, I will chain you to the bridge if I have to."
Momentarily, Spocks eyes danced with amusement, before morphing into something unreadable. "As well aware as I am to your unappreciative status of my leave, I think it-"
Kirk slammed a fist to the table, the game now forgotten. "Unappreciative, Spock? You are a damn good First Officer, smart as fuck, an incredible companion, quite possibly the only person here who can calm down as well as piss off Bones to the fifth degree, as well as possibly the only person here who can do the job of three others as well as his own, and much more. Spock, I downright hate the idea of you resigning enough to destroy all resignation forms in the alpha, delta, and gamma quadrants!"
Spock let the right corner of his mouth perk. "What of the resignation forms in the beta quadrant, sir?"
Jim's eyes darted left and right as he licked his lips in thought. "I'll just have to tell everyone not to give one to you, and tell them they'll be stripped of rank otherwise."
One of those slanted brows was now quirked, and the blond captain resisted the urge to do something- anything- to make every single feeling known.
"You are inclined to feel so strongly on this matter?"
Everywhere I'm looking now
I'm surrounded by your embrace
Baby I can see your halo
You know you're my saving grace
Jim inclined his head sharply. "You bet your –uh… You bet. Of course. Besides Spock," the blond grinned cheekily, "You're irreplaceable."
Spock's eyes softened, and to Jim's surprise, reached up to fidget with a rook. "I confess, Captain… I believe I have recently become… Emotionally compromised."
Almost at once, Jim felt his stomach bottom out and his mouth go dry. "I… I see. You wish to resign so you do not have the chance to… Show favoritism towards Lieutenant Uhura." The golden shirted man instantly had thought of Uhura, as the two have been involved before.
The half-Vulcan looked up with something akin to panic in his eyes, and he searches for a way to correct the man before him.
Jim picks up the fallen pieces, and they resume their game.
Spock sits at the table, across from the captain he has come to gain a great deal of respect for, and feels something inexplicable tighten across his abdomen.
You're everything I need and more
It's written all over your face
Baby I can feel your halo
Pray it won't fade away
He thinks, debating on letting the topic drift away, or say everything here and now. Jim's face looks slightly withdrawn and angry still. Letting go will allow that look to fade, but a small voice speaks up and it wonders if letting Jim think he is involved with Nyota again might damage the already tilt-a-whirl like relationship they have.
Spock's human side prevails as Jim moves his queen.
"I have long been unattached to Lieutenant Uhura, Captain."
The blond blinks, places his queen, and freezes as thoughts spin about. All he manages to utter is a quiet, "I see."
Three turns pass, and Spock utters weakly, "My resignation-"
Jim swallows and interrupts him, "Who is it?"
The half-Vulcan swallows as well, "I do not belie-"
"Please, Spock, -" The tone of his voice makes the blue-shirted man quiver internally, but he breaths deep and even as per usual.
"You."
I can feel your halo halo halo
I can see your halo halo halo
I can feel your halo halo halo
I can see your halo halo halo
Kirk can see Spock's halo as they lay down that night, and he decides the other man is a blessing, and much, much more.
There ya'll go!
I realize this is considerably shorter than The Dress.... I wish I had been able to write more.
However, I'm perfectly happy with how this turned out. If you aren't, don't review.
In fact, I'm happier if you don't, I simply enjoy the hits counter going up.
Constructive comments are appreciated though.
Much Love,
M.