Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings.

~ Anais Nin

Love Never Dies a Natural Death

Jim placed a hand to the enormous window on the main observation deck, the cool glass feeling wonderful against his skin. He leaned forward and rested his forehead against it as well, letting the chill leech away the residual anger in his system. It was hard to be angry about Starfleet politics and ridiculously dangerous missions when he was here, looking out into the stars that were home to a million different races, a million different likes, interests, cultures, viewpoints.

After all, it was hard to remain angry about something so small when there was an entire universe out there, filled with things like the plains of Antares IX and the battle of Ivarn, the friendship between Earth and Vulcan and their antagonistic relationship with their Klingon enemies. It was such a mix of hope and pain, of fear and joy, of life and death, that Jim's problems seemed insignificant and paltry next to the problems of the universe spinning themselves out before his eyes.

With a half smile on his lips and a laugh in his voice, Jim sing-songed, "I wish I may, I wish I might…" he trailed off, smile dropping from his face. It was an old Earth rhyme, used to wish on the stars that had twinkled in the heavens and seemed so impossible to touch, to reach, that they must have been completely otherworldly.

"Have the wish I wish tonight," a deep, smooth voice finished from behind him.

Jim nearly leapt out of his skin, inhaling sharply as he twirled, placing a hand to his chest. "Spock!" he cried, startled. "Don't do that! You scared me half to death!" He took a deep breath, trying to get his heart to stop thundering, pulse fluttering anxiously.

"I did not intend to startle you," Spock said from his place at the doorway. His face took on the slightest hint of worry. "Please excuse me, Captain, I did not wish to disturb you. I will depart."

He'd already turned to go before Jim realized that he should say something. "No, wait, Mr. Spock. You're not disturbing me." He smiled beguilingly, gesturing for Spock to enter. "I promise I'm not in the middle of anything. Besides, I don't have any right to kick you out just because I'm the Captain."

Spock hesitated. "Captain, I have no pressing business that needs to take place here. I can come back at another time." He turned to go again, his shoulders fraught with tension.

Something in Jim's heart cracked. "Please," he said in a lower voice. "We don't even have to talk."

Spock stopped in the doorway, back still turned. Jim wished it was possible to see Spock's face as he said, "I do not wish to disturb you, truly. But…if I am not-" Spock half-turned, searching Jim's face.

"You're not," Jim hastened to assure him, wondering why he was going out of his way to make Spock comfortable, to spend time with him if he was supposed to be trying to get over him. He tried to keep the frantic, over-apologetic tone from becoming too evident in his voice, but instead of worrying Spock more, it actually made the tension less noticeable.

"Very well then," Spock agreed, finally stepping into the room proper.

Twenty minutes passed and not a word was spoken. Jim was very careful not to look over at Spock, trying to ignore the ghost of Spock's skin sliding against his own in something as small as a hug. Spock did the same, trying to pretend he wasn't hyper aware of each and every inhalation and exhalation that Jim made in his presence. Jim had never been one for being stuck in limbo, however, because knowing the answer was always better than worrying about what the answer might be.

Jim wiped his sweating palms against his pants, licking his lips as he tried to figure out a way to break the silence that wouldn't result in Spock choking him again or- heaven forbid- leaving entirely. He paced in front of the observation window for a moment, Spock's gaze making the hair on the back of his neck rise with a strained tension.

"I like the stars," Jim finally blurted out, and immediately turned so brilliant a scarlet he was sure that Spock's next comment would be a comparison between his face and a tomato. He turned away, mortified. It was supposed to be easier than this to talk to an ex, right? Or at least, Jim had never had any troubles in the past, though the same probably couldn't be said of those men and women that Jim had broken up with. Without a true attachment, without a vested interest in making the relationship work in the first place, of course it was less awkward for Jim. But this, this relationship here and now…Jim ran a hand through his short hair, and then rubbed at his face before turning and looking at Spock.

"One of my mother's favorite sights was the last part of the journey back to Earth from anywhere in the world. Since it is mandatory for ships to drop out of warp by the asteroid belt, she was always able to see the Earth grow from what she called a 'blue star' to a planet, though of course it was not truly a blue star, but in fact blue because of the color of the oceans…" Spock trailed off for a brief second, and Jim abruptly realized that Spock was rambling.

Spock.

Was rambling.

It took Jim a good ten seconds to pull his brain back online, just in time to hear Spock ask in a voice that was almost too emotionless, "Is the reason for your enjoyment centered on the fact that you find the stars to be aesthetically pleasing?'

"Well that's a part of it, I guess. It might be human nature to look at the stars and find them beautiful and want to know more about them, but that's not all," Jim mused. "I think the thing I find most interesting is everything that can be found out there. The whole of the universe, and so many of the same questions. Love, life, death- the big three, in a way- and so many different answers. More than can ever be read about. They need to be experienced, seen, and they'll change you little by little. I also think of my dad, sometimes, when I'm out here, and wonder if he thought the same thing about the stars. Though my mom would always answer any questions I had, she never really went out of her way to volunteer information." Jim cleared his throat. "So, uh, why do you like them? Or not like them, I guess, since Vulcans don't like things, but find them interesting, I guess?" That red flush was back, he just knew it was. He could feel his face heating up as he spoke.

"Much the same as you, I imagine. Vulcans teach IDIC- infinite diversity in infinite combinations." Spock glanced at Jim for a moment, as though to check that he really did know what IDIC was. Jim quelled his slight irritation; it was one of the first things they taught you about in Starfleet, since Vulcan was one of the founding members. "To see what those combinations are, to see them be truly infinite in their scope and breadth, is something I find even more fascinating when I am given the opportunity to study the way different sciences evolved on different planets, and through that discover more about how our own system works, or, in some cases, lacks the necessary depth to be truly useful."

"Wow," Jim said in an admiring tone, smiling slightly. It wasn't his usual cocksure grin, and its gentleness may Spock's stomach twist itself a little with need. "I hadn't thought of it that way; I guess science is like anything else though. If you get too involved in it, it's a case of can't see the forest."

"Can't see the forest?"

"Yeah. The full phrase is can't see the forest for the trees, and refers to the fact that sometimes you need to take a step back from a problem in order to put things in perspective. You know, since you can't see the forest if you're in the middle of it, surrounded by trees. By taking a look at all those other sciences, it makes you have a different perspective when you look at your own."

"Fascinating phrase, and considerably more clever than some other human idioms I have encountered. Vulcans have a similar phrase, which translates roughly into, 'do not use dust to clear your eyes'." Spock tilted his head as though listening to the way the words sounded. "It is not as clever in Standard as it is in the original."

"Well, that's probably because translations are never as good as the original. They're too many nuances that the original language uses, probably, to give a true sense of what it means in another language, though you can at least get the general idea across," Jim said with a musing nod of his own.

"That is generally what language is used for," Spock said with that desert dryness that Jim had come to associate with Spock making a joke.

Jim laughed, short but genuinely amused. There was no tone of mockery that Spock could spot, and he'd long since become an expert on that sort of laughter. Spock restrained a smile with the ease of long practice. "I'll concede that," Jim returned lightly, a note of joy weaving its way through the words.

"Captain, sorry to disturb you, but Admiral Pike's on the main comm. He says he needs to speak with you. Fereti out."

Jim started at the sound of his comm going off, and answered back, "I'll be there in just a minute, so tell the good Admiral to hold his horses 'til I get there. Kirk out." Jim flashed an apologetic smile to Spock. "Duty calls, literally. I'll see you later." He waved a hand and left the observation deck.

As he made his way back to the bridge, Jim smiled, small, slow and secret. He didn't know quite what it meant yet, but even he couldn't miss the significance of the fact that this was the first real conversation he and Spock had had since they'd broken up. It hadn't been perfect, hadn't been deep or filled with apologies, but it had felt good nonetheless.

Maybe we can do this, Jim thought, suddenly anticipating the next time he saw Spock with a certain pure excitement that he hadn't experienced in a long time. Maybe we can find a way to coexist, at the very least. Maybe we can get past this despite everything.

The smile on his face widened, unrestrained for the first time in weeks.

"If you're here to bitch about that pointy-eared hobgoblin one more time, turn right around. I don't have time to cater to your despondent hissy fit today. I have to finish my supply request today by the end of the day and send it off, and I'm only halfway done."

"I'm not here to throw a hissy fit, Bones. I'm rather offended that you think that."

"Yeah, well go be offended somewhere else, Jim. I really don't have time for this right now. Get out."

"Take a chill pill, Bones. I'm just here to ask a question."

"'Take a chill pill'? Really? What are you, from the 21st century? Go be chill somewhere else, home boy."

"See there? If you have time to complain about the phrases I use, especially after you use something from the same century, you've got time to answer a simple question of mine."

"One question, Jim. Speak now or forever hold your peace."

"If I told you that Spock and I might be able to fix things, what would you say?"

Bones was quiet for a moment. He thought of Jim's heartbroken expression, of Uhura's tears. He thought of his wife, his divorce, and the daughter he hadn't seen in person since before the Academy. He thought of the little glances Spock and Jim used to look at each other, and the emotions that Jim wouldn't dare name, but that Bones could hear in his voice regardless.

"Jimmy, I will say this once and once only, God help me. You are not as big a fuck-up as you seem to think you are. Spock would be lucky to have you, however you choose to give yourself to him. But heaven help me if the pair of you screw up again, because I've already chosen which airlock to throw the pair of you out of, and I can name six people off the top of my head that would help me cover it up. Now go away, because I now have to scrub my brain with bleach, and I still don't have this requisition paperwork done. Go on, get out."

"Bleach?" Jim asked in a teasing tone. "Don't you think that's a little archaic?"

"When I said 'Now go away', a) I meant now in the immediate sense of 'right now, this very instant if at all possible' and b) I meant go away as in 'out of my office, out of my Med Bay, and out of my life if you think I'm going to talk about you and the green-blooded hobgoblin that fascinates you so'. Am I clear?"

"Crystal, my darling Bones. And…thanks."

"Get out before I call Security."

In a rare show of good sense, Jim skedaddled without another word, earsplitting grin on his face.

"Nyota, there is a perplexing matter that has come to my attention."

"It must be perplexing indeed, for you to come to me."

"It is a matter in which you have far more expertise than I do, as a human. I believe that you will have a greater insight as to how to resolve this matter than I do."

"I suppose I should ask you what the matter is about before I thank you for complimenting my greater expertise."

"It is a matter of…relationships and what happens when they are brought to a conclusion. Before you, the only relationship I had was with my intended bond mate, T'Pring. I have recently come to the conclusion that perhaps the termination of my relationship with Captain Kirk was made more hastily than it should have been."

Nyota looked at Spock carefully, and said in an even more careful voice, "Are you perhaps having regrets, Spock?"

"I admit a certain dissatisfaction as to where we stand in regards to one another."

"Alright. I suppose the next question is where you'd like to go next. If you are having regrets about where the pair of you stand, and want to strengthen your bond, the best thing for you to do would find a way to connect with him regularly," Nyota recommended, thoughtful look on her face. She tried to figure out what Spock was thinking, but he had his best poker face on. "If you can find a way to talk to him regularly outside of work, that would probably be best. See if there's something that you have in common that you can do together. Like…chess. I know that he played sometimes during the Academy. Even if he's not up to your level, it's at least something that you have in common. Besides, Jim is freakishly smart despite his 'I'm a dumb hick' routine, and if he isn't an accomplished chess player yet, and if he's interested, maybe you can teach him the finer points. And if he is any good, well maybe he'll even give you a run for your money." Nyota smiled at Spock, thinking of Bones's apology as she gave advice to her ex-boyfriend.

Spock smiled back with his eyes, and something in Nyota eased, oddly. "Thank you for your help, Nyota. It's been an illuminating conversation, and I will think on the points that you've made in order to come to a conclusion."

Nyota hesitated and then said, "Let me know how it all turns out."

"Of course. Your help was appreciated, Nyota."

"Would you be interested in a game of chess this evening, Captain?"

Jim whirled around so fast he was damn near sure he'd given himself whiplash. He stared at his First with a look of absolute confusion on his face. Surely he hadn't heard what he thought he had heard. "Come again?"

"Chess, Captain. It has come to my attention that you have played before. Would you be interesting in joining me for a game sometime this evening, perhaps after dinner?"

Jim stopped dead in the middle of the hallway, freezing for a single moment, waiting for someone to leap out and yell, "Gotcha!" As much as he might have hoped that the relationship between Spock and him had taken a turn for the better, this was a little much for him to wrap his head around. Did Spock not understand the silent rule of being exes, which was that you didn't do things alone together because that was a recipe for disaster? Well, considering how much Spock hung out with Uhura, it was entirely possible that little social memo had flown completely over his head, because Jim seriously doubted Spock had been in that many relationships, and even fewer of a serious nature.

Dumbfounded, Jim could only ask, "Why?"

"I have recently come to the conclusion that I may have been wrong in my earlier desire to end out relationship. I feel it may have been premature."

All of Jim's good intentions to be a friend to Spock despite their rocky start, to work to move past that however they could flew out of his head. He'd intended to be understanding, to do what he could to forgive and forget, but every single kind thought had dissolved in a bout of fury that blazed a scorching blue like the hottest of stars. Jim grabbed Spock's arm, and he knew that his grip was hard enough to startle the tiniest of noises out of Spock. Jim didn't care, couldn't care and dragged him off to his ready room.

Once inside, Jim turned to face Spock, and whatever the half-Vulcan found in Jim's face made him take a wary half step back. Yeah, he better be afraid, Jim thought in a vindictive snarl as he made his stance as belligerent as possible. In a voice made of the purest Antarctic wind, he murmured, "What exactly do you mean, that you think that you may have made an error and ended our relationship prematurely?"

Spock wasn't one to be cowed easily, and he could give as good as he got. "It is exactly as it sounds. After our conversation on the observation deck, I became aware that I…disliked-" Spock looked like he'd swallowed a lemon at having to admit that he might have a preference for something, "-not having you around. With advice from Nyota, I was able to come to the conclusion that stepping back from our relationship instead of working on it as you had suggested was the wrong decision. Having realized it, I am now admitting that I made a mistake in hopes that we may redefine the parameters of our relationship."

Jim just stared at Spock, face twisted up with equal parts confusion and rage. "Are you on something?" Jim asked suspiciously. "You're not just fucking with me because of some sort of…I dunno, allergic reaction or something?"

"I have been exposed to nothing new in my environment and therefore conclude that my realization that I made an error cannot be attributed to any outside influence."

"Oh," Jim said, and though the rage was fading, it still throbbed unpleasantly. By and large, however, a strange bemusement was taking over his mind. "You couldn't have come to this conclusion earlier?" He said instead, and though he wanted his voice to sound hard, to cut Spock in the only way he could, his voice sounded small and rather lost instead.

"It was not until our conversation that I realized that something was lacking, Captain, despite the fact that our previous encounters were less than optimal. It is for this reason that I believe it would be advisable to re-evaluate our relationship in a manner more pleasing to us both."

"And if I want to keep you at arm's length?" Jim challenged.

"Then I will stand at arm's length."

"And if I hate you forever for putting me through all this shit and letting me just now know that you even might regret how things played out?"

"It will not change my duties as your First Officer or as your friend."

His answers seemed only to incense Jim more. "And if I have you transferred off this damn ship, you asshole?" Jim hated the way his voice cracked, the way it got high and thready with the emotion running rampant through every inch of his skin. He hated that he was giving away more than he should, after the way things turned out. He hated that Spock could still get to him with the simplest of phrases, the most direct of words.

Most of all, he hated that the threat sounded more like a plea.

"Then I will still have had the honor of serving underneath one of the most admirable men I know."

"Fuck!" Jim exploded, and he screamed, heedless of who might hear them, "You can't just say shit like that, Spock, and expect everything to be hunky-dory! You fucking hurt me! What gives you the right to come waltzing into my life again? I was fine without you, dammit, and…and…" Jim let out a slow breath, and covered his face, trying to hide the way it had crumpled, the way the tears were starting to rise in his eyes. "Dammit, Spock, can't you just let me pretend you don't exist in peace?"

"It is illogical to pretend that I do not exist when clearly it is possible for me to interact with you on the physical plane, though we may have both wished at times that this were not the case."

That startled a half-laugh, half-sob out of Jim. "Not everything is strictly illogical or logical, Spock. Life just isn't that simple. I don't know if I can forgive you for what you did just yet, even knowing that I wasn't much better, because at least I tried, at the end. Do you have any idea how much it hurt that you just gave up so easily?"

"No," Spock said quietly, and Jim ached to hear the tremor of agony in the simple word. "I do not have any idea. And I suspect that we will spend a long time formulating apologies for our actions. We were both in great error this past year, and it will take time to repair that."

Jim couldn't bear to remain still. He paced back and forth across the room. "Dammit," he cursed again, and ran his fingers through his hair, making it stand on end. "Why can't anything in life be easy?"

"Because then it wouldn't be worth having."

Jim froze at that. Spock took it as his cue to explain more. "My mother said to me often that anything worth having was worth the effort it took to maintain it. She said that anything worth having was worth fighting for."

"Your mother was a wise woman."

"She was. I think that she would have taken pleasure in your company."

Jim snorted a weary laugh. "You can't just blindside me with shit like that, Spock. You'll distract me."

"That was not my intention."

Jim snorted for a second time and ran his fingers through his hair yet again. "Spock…I was serious when I said I don't know if I'll forgive you for this. And, if I'm going to be honest, some of the things that I said aren't exactly worth forgiving either. Even if we do manage to move past it, I don't know that we'll ever be what we were again."

Spock's gaze locked with Jim's. "What we were was not an admirable state of affairs, Captain, and you know that as well as I. Anything we do now will have a different foundation. A proper foundation, this time. We have already seen the worst of each other. Perhaps it is time to see the best."

"I don't know if I want to risk being hurt again."

"I have no interest in that either, Captain. The reason I left in the first place is because I was hurt, and I did not think I could stand to be hurt further. I felt it was better to remain apart from you than risk further emotional injury."

"I'm sorry," Jim said with a wince, unable to look at Spock. "I really am."

"As am I. However, I have come to the realization that the pain is not reason enough to cut my emotional ties from you as I sometimes would like. If it was, I would have long since transferred from this ship in an effort to distance myself from you. Yet I remained, and I am glad that I did so."

Jim swallowed. "Maybe we can start over, then. Well, not really, but it'll probably be better if we don't dwell on the past. Someday, I hope we'll be able to talk about what happened, though now I think the wounds are a little too fresh."

Spock nodded. "I am in agreement with you, Captain. How would you like us to proceed?"

Jim turned to Spock, face thoughtful and young, now that the stress and anxiety had faded slightly from his face. He held up his hands in the ta'al, or the closest approximation he could make, and said in a quiet voice, "Hello, Spock. My name is Jim Kirk. I like raspberry ice cream, starships, and have a soft spot for the resident half-Vulcan on my ship. We got off to a rough start that was made rougher by some stupid mistakes on both our sides, but I think things are looking up."

Spock's lips twitched, and there was a warmth in his eyes that made Jim's heart beat double time. "Greetings, Jim. I am S'chn T'gai Spock. I find warp physics to be fascinating, know five languages, and find my Captain to be aesthetically pleasing. Though we are not always able to agree on the best course of action, we have recently come to a tentative understanding as to the state of our friendship, a fact which I find enjoyable despite my heritage."

"Perhaps you'd like to come to my quarters later?" Jim suggested quietly, searching Spock's face for something only he could see. "That chess match sounds like a good idea. It can be a part of a clean start. Say, 20:00?"

"A clean start sounds like the best course of action, Captain."

"Jim. If we're going to be making up, you've got to at least call me Jim."

"Very well, Jim."

Spock waited an awkward moment to see if his Captain would say anything more, but Jim remained silent. "If that is all, Jim, I will take my leave until 20:00."

Just as Spock reached the door, Jim called out, "Wait!"

"Yes, Jim?"

Jim smiled, that old, challenging smile that Spock had missed so much. "If you're coming tonight, you'd better bring your A game. Otherwise I'll whip your ass."

Spock did that not-smiling thing with his eyes, and Jim's grin only grew broader. "As they say, Jim, 'bring it on'."

Cause it's no one's fault

There's no black and white

There's only you and me

On this endless night

~ Josh Groban, "Now Or Never"