Chapter Three:
Spock went about lighting candles throughout his quarters with about the same pomp and circumstance that he did any other daily routine. The mood lighting, being an ancient Earth practice that began as necessity and gradually became luxury, was not for Spock's benefit but for his visitor. Humans, he had discovered, were rather quite responsive to such subtle enhancements. In one corner he had also lit a stick of incense, appropriately enough called 'musk', whose scent he knew for a fact was a favorite of his lover's.
And though he appreciated enough the reactions these small, inconsiquential touches evoked, the Vulcan side of him still regarded them with curious disdain, and had he not already conceded the result was worth the effort, he would have felt silly as he extinguished the match, gently blowing the flame out and depositing the remains in the trash receptacle.
The keypad outside his door beeped away quickly, and the door slid open. Spock cocked his head slightly, looking at Kirk with as much curiosity as one eyebrow could muster.
After a moment, Kirk entered and closed the door behind him. "Here we go," He said, brandishing the bottle he carried and setting two champagne flutes on the table. "The finest champagne the U.S.S. Enterprise has to offer!" He sniffed the air. "Incense! Nice touch!"
"I hope you were able to procure the beverages from the proper channels?"
Kirk shrugged as he worked the cork. "More or less." The cork popped off, bounced off the window, and ricocheted off of Spock's head. Spock picked it up and regarded it carefully as Kirk filled the two glasses.
"I do hope that by 'more or less' you mean that you did at least make an attempt to ask before you took the whole bottle?"
"Come on, Spock! The party's almost over up there, and there were still a few bottles left. I don't think I was the only one taking a whole bottle, alright? Hell, I saw Scotty walking off with two bottles of scotch!"
"Just because the majority performs a hitherto unaccepted behavior does not automatically make it accepted behavior."
"Thank you, Mr. Conscience." Kirk set the bottle down and took both of the glasses, perching himself on the table and leaning close in to Spock, handing him a glass. "You always have to be so morally upstanding?"
Spock took the offered glass and continued to watch Kirk levelly. "As opposed to your moral belligerence?"
Kirk leaned back and swirled the bubbles in his glass. "A little rule bending never hurt anyone ... I thought you would have remembered that from our first mission together." He held his glass out to Spock. "A toast."
Spock raised his glass a fraction, and then sipped as Kirk took a swig. Spock could not find the logic in toasting, but people (humans specifically) seemed to get upset if you at least didn't act with some acceptance and understanding of the practice.
As Kirk refilled his own glass, Spock watched him carefully. He wasn't entirely sure when the shift in emotions -- deep, nuanced emotions -- had occurred, but at some point he had gone from regarding Kirk with quiet loathing to wanting him with an intense fury. He seemed to be Spock's opposite, and so perhaps the old adage was true about opposites attracting, but Spock suspected it was also something else.
He would never be full Vulcan, or full Human, but he had spent his impressionable years on Vulcan and learning Vulcan and studying the Vulcan Way. Even though he had decided against joining the Science Academy and submitting himself to pure logic, he was still far more Vulcan in actions, thoughts, and nuance than human. There were times that he nearly envied Kirk, admired him, thought that he was a pinnacle of human behavior; emotion in its most raw form.
He would never be fully human, but he felt the closest in Kirk's arms.
Kirk himself had finished another glass, then went ahead and finished Spock's, and set the two glasses aside. He leaned in close, and put one hand behind Spock's head and gently stroked his hair.
"To believe, I hated you in the beginning." He smiled. He liked pointing out this fact, and it was still a riddle to Spock as to why he would repeat the sentiment. Was loathing truly so close to love as to be indiscernible from it?
Kirk leaned in closer, and their lips met, but the touch did not last long as the keypad beeped away and the door slid open before either of them had a chance to react.
Uhura was nearly inside before she noticed them, but it was obvious from her expression that she knew at once what wasgoing on, even if she didn't understand and would have trouble believing it.
Spock stood quickly, and Kirk wobbled and fell off the table. There were no words spoken, even though the intentions were there, and after another moment that seemed to hang on longer than it actually was, Uhura turned and ran out and down the hall.
Spock made as if to follow, but Kirk grabbed his arm and pulled him back.
"You didn't tell her, did you?" he hissed.
